


Stills of Silk and Rope

by hollyblue2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, BDSM, Caretaking, DestielFFPrompt (Supernatural), Dom!Cas, Fluff, M/M, Photography, Shibari, Spanking, Sub!Dean, Subdrop, jealous exes, model!dean, nude model, photographer!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/pseuds/hollyblue2
Summary: When Dean Winchester finds an advertisement for a modelling gig, he applies without much thought. When he's accepted by the stunning Castiel Novak and asked to model in varying positions strung up in Shibari, Dean finds his niche and a new, somewhat unprofessional relationship blooms.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 382
Kudos: 604
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MelancholySeraph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelancholySeraph/gifts).



> Hiii! This is a new fic, again with a few chapters and no schedule except for whenever I next finish a chapter. I have bullet pointed that there could be about 8 chapters all going well :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fairly smutty fic. The prompt came from a FB group and it attached to me like a very friendly octopus (sorry no tentacles here, maybe another time) and I just had to write it so here we are!

* * *

Dean doesn't find himself with a spare five minutes often. Between DoorDashing, his job at the local diner and college work, it doesn't leave him much time to just relax. 

His roommate, Aaron, is out for the afternoon and for once in his life he's as up to date with his college work as he can be. This means he has a couple of hours to sit and watch a movie and knock around the apps on his phone he hasn't opened in a while. He doesn't even do his go-to of porn sites on his phone because there's plenty of social media to catch up on. He takes several random quizzes, most of them ending up on the wrong result of course, except that one scarily accurate one, then scrolls through his Facebook. Most of it is college stuff, people he's met over the years sharing their lives, pages he follows and college events as well. 

Half-watching an old western - a simple, yet, guilty pleasure of his - he clicks on a couple of upcoming events to register his interest, mostly engineering-based ones as they look interesting, and keeps scrolling. 

Dean barely even registers as he scrolls right past the artsy post as he's never been all that interested in art. However, as he scrolls past, something about the photos catches Dean's eye and he scrolls back up. 

The images are fairly tasteful, in low contrast black and white, exposing where the light hits the models' bodies - he might not be interested in art but Charlie and her girlfriend talk about it a lot. Each one is stunning, and that's just on the cover post. There are two models, both wrapped up in rope, but even Dean can tell it's been done by a professional. 

Suddenly more interested than he thought, Dean clicks through to the website, the movie nothing but white background noise. 

_ Exhibit in black and white: a gallery filled with sensual photographs in monochrome. _

The title itself sparks something in Dean, and for a few moments, he imagines himself in their position, arms encased in intricate knots, pressure around his chest and waist - that tied up sense of security enveloping his entire self. Dean shudders pleasantly. 

He's never done it before, but he's watched plenty of videos and jerked off many a time to them too. 

When the short slideshow ends, Dean's eyes catch sight of the artist in the corner of the page. 

_ Castiel Novak.  _ There's a picture too and oh boy. There's a particular kind of man that Dean's attracted to and this Castiel Novak seems to check all of the boxes. 

He reads his mini biography, finding out Castiel studied at the same college he's at and graduated just two years ago which, if he went the usual route, would make him not much older than Dean. He also seems to be well known within photography circles which impresses Dean too. 

The next thing he reads causes a hot flush all over his body.  _ Models wanted. _ The imaginings from earlier just feel so much more real, not that he ever thinks he'll be chosen. He looks down at himself, lifting his shirt and raising a brow at his not-so-flat-anymore stomach and sighs. When he clicks on the link anyway out of curiosity he finds a short application form, that requires his name, age, brief consent and a place where he needs to upload images of himself.  Dean  blinks and ponders over the kind of images he needs to send when he finds the little question mark hover to give him more information. It requests a head shot and a head to waist shot (both clothed), which is easy enough to handle. 

He sends it off with butterflies in his stomach and not a lot of hope and tries not to think about it too much. 

*

Not thinking about it too much doesn't last long when he finally finds himself in bed later that night after a long shift at the diner. He pulls up the photography website again and drinks in the sight of the photos. They're almost too beautiful to masturbate to, so he clicks out and finds a video of a woman being tied up with an ASMR-like voiceover. 

With a hand down his boxers, he comes just two minutes into the video and feels too sensitive to carry on and watch the rest. 

Dean sleeps restfully for the first time that week and forgets his application the next day when he's lumped with more work and a solid shift of DoorDashing and serving a bunch of assholes at the diner. 

And then it's another four days until he receives an email. 

> _ From: CNovakPhotography@mail.com  _
> 
> _ To: Dean.Winchester@kansascc.com _
> 
> _ Subject: Application Response.  _

Dean stares at it for a full two minutes before deciding to read on he's barely given it two thoughts with his busy schedule.

> _ Good afternoon Dean, _
> 
> _ I have considered your profile and would like to accept you as a potential model pending a test shoot.  _
> 
> _ The test shoot will be to make sure that you feel comfortable in front of a camera and choose for yourself whether this is for you or not.  _
> 
> _ The main shoot should you wish to continue will last for five weeks, with twelve shooting days and on those days you will be paid $200 an hour.  _
> 
> _ The test shoot will be $100 an hour.  _

Dean blinks. That's a lot of money for a photoshoot and would vastly improve his stowed funds for things he needs for college and going out with friends and most importantly, keeping up the maintenance of his Impala. 

> _ Kind regards, _
> 
> _ Castiel Novak.  _

He likes this guy already. 

Dean emails back confirming the test shoot and there's a quick, and brief email chain resulting in the date being this Saturday. When he logs it in his calendar, he's reminded about Charlie's gaming thing but shoots her a text to say he won't be able to come. The money and this exciting venture seems more pressing. He can catch up with Charlie another time. 

*

Saturday comes around quickly, as does 8am. Dean rolls out of bed reluctantly with his alarm and stumbles to the shower. He cleans himself well, washing his hair and conditioning it so it looks extra soft. He trims where he needs to and shaves his face smooth before stepping out and towelling himself dry. 

Then it’s deodorant, hair product and an extra wash of his face with the fancy face wash Charlie bought him one year for Christmas, and some of his nicer clothes that are still comfortable, then he's ready. 

Castiel already told him there's guest parking outside his studio and that once he arrives and signs into the building he will need to ask for a visitor pass to put in the windshield. 

The building looks modern from the outside, several storeys up with large windows and the parking spaces are generous. He parks up next to a monstrosity of a gold Lincoln but looking back the cars look good together compared to the three modern cars in the lot. 

There’s a small reception area and a woman with short, blonde hair sitting behind the counter. As soon as the door closes behind him she looks up and smiles at him. Her eyes are bright and cheerful, typical for a receptionist greeting people. 

"Hi!" she greets enthusiastically. "My name's Becky and you…" she thinks for a moment but Dean doesn't get a chance to speak before she barrels on. "You must be here for Castiel Novak?"

"How did you—?" Dean starts but still he's interrupted by her enthusiasm.

"Oh, he  _ always  _ has the pretty ones." Her comment takes him aback, and he scrunches his nose up. It's not that he minds being called pretty, and it's not like it's the first time he's heard it. It's just a little much and a little strong for this time in the morning. 

"Um, yeah, where do I sign in?"

"Right here." She passes him a book and a gold sparkly pen with a feathery top and he looks at it with distaste. 

"Becky… you're going to scare him off." A much deeper voice comes from the doors to the stairwell and Dean looks up from signing in to see a man who looks so much hotter in person than he did in his profile image. 

Real-life Castiel Novak with his slight smile seems a lot warmer than the tight-lipped photograph online let on. 

Dean scribbles his signature and then takes a step towards Castiel. "Hi, I'm Dean." 

"Castiel Novak." Castiel holds out his hand towards Dean and Dean takes it. "Come this way, I'll show you where we'll be working." 

Walking behind Castiel gives Dean a bit of a view. The man's wearing dark slacks, and a shirt with no tie and he’d already seen that the first couple of buttons had been undone. His hair is a little wild, even from the back and Dean can already see that the man is likely to be strong given how his muscles flex under his shirt. 

When they reach the top floor, Dean enters the studio after Castiel and he's amazed at the size of it. About a third of the room is set up with a white canvas, softboxes, and several cameras while the furthest part of the room has a kitchenette with a table, fridge, sink and coffee machine. The middle of the room seems to be left for storage with various boxes for models to stand on and a large chest. From the photos that he saw he wonders where the ropes are kept and part of him expected to see other paraphernalia hanging around too. 

"If you're looking for ropes, they're in the chest, but we won't be touching those today." 

Dean whips his head around and stares at Castiel. 

"I wasn't—" 

Castiel chuckles. "It's okay, it's the first thing anyone does when they come up here. You're not my first model, Dean."

The way Castiel says his name makes his knees a little weak but Dean stands up strong and just nods shyly. 

"Let me get you some coffee and then we can chat for a little bit before we start. I can go over anything you want to know."

"That would be great." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the fab response on the first chapter! It's test shoot time for Dean :D

They talk for a long while. Castiel tells Dean about how he got into photography and into shibari. Finding out that Castiel is a dominant doesn't surprise him but it definitely makes him feel warm and tingly at the mention of it. 

Castiel prefers male models over female models, they're more robust to work with and Castiel is more adept with typing ropes around flatter chests than breasts — it makes for better photos too, in Castiel’s eye. 

Eventually though, their coffee cups are empty and Castiel says that it's time to get going with the test shoot. 

"Take off your flannel, you can leave everything else on, of course." 

Dean follows the instructions and folds his flannel somewhat neatly before stashing it on one of the boxes. 

"Where do you need me?" Dean asks and then follows when Castiel points his finger onto a near-invisible marker on the floor of the canvas. 

Dean feels incredibly awkward just standing there, even more so when Castiel stares at him critically and then moves around the softboxes until he's satisfied. 

"Feet slightly apart, then turn your shoulders a little, I want you to look towards the softbox on the right… the other right." Castiel instructs him and there’s the telltale shutter of the camera after it takes photo after photo even when he feels he isn't ready. After a couple of minutes, Castiel shuffles the softboxes around and goes again.

Dean turns this way and then, slowly feeling more relaxed and as he does he notices that Castiel relaxes too. 

"Alright, shirt off and—" Castiel taps his finger against his lips and looks him up and down. "Undo the belt on your jeans." 

Dean crosses his arms and pulls off his shirt, and he's sure he hears the click of the camera while doing so, and definitely hears it as he unbuckles his belt. His cheeks tinge red but he looks up. 

Another shutter. 

Castiel smiles at him. 

"You have a lovely figure."

"Um… thanks." Dean looks down and the same thoughts that ran through his head when he sent in the application drift through again. He's not the slimmest or trimmest, he certainly hasn't worked out properly in years, not since he started college. Between the diner and DoorDashing, he gets his steps in but that's largely it. 

"Whatever you're thinking, stop. I'm not about publishing photos of what people  _ think _ men should look like. Everyone is different, and I already said: you have a lovely figure. So, stop doubting yourself. Okay?" 

Dean nods, not finding the words to actually answer him. 

It takes a little more effort to relax for the next few shots, then they both haul one of the podium boxes across to the canvas before Castiel goes back and roots through a set of drawers before taking out a large red cloth. 

"Aren't your photos black and white?" Dean asks as he watches Castiel drape the cloth over the podium, effectively hiding it and ruffling the corners to make it come across more natural. 

"That particular set is, and I will be doing more of that in the future with you if you wish to go ahead with it. I also enjoy working with specific colours, picking out maybe one or two tones in a set. Like here I would pick out the dark red of the cloth, and pick up the points on you which most suit the colour. The dark red also looks dark grey in monochrome, so adds a slightly different tone depending on what point I'm trying to focus on the most." Castiel smiles and Dean nods along, slowly beginning to understand the finer points. "How flexible are you feeling?"

Dean thinks for a moment and grimaces. "It depends what you're asking me to do. It's been a while since I've been properly flexible."

"I'd like to have you with just your underwear on." 

"You trying to undress me slowly?" Dean says with mirth feeling a lot more comfortable now a few hours have passed. 

"I would have had you naked from the start but given that you’re inexperienced with modelling, I didn't want to put the frog in boiling water - so to speak." Castiel smiles at him.

"I'll take my underwear off too, how do you want me?" 

Castiel stepped out from behind his camera, coming towards Dean as he was about to remove his pants. "Sitting on the box diagonally, the closest leg up and bent so the camera can't see anything and stretch out your chest, looking upwards." 

Dean nods, then as soon as Castiel steps away, removes his pants. His actions stutter when he hooks his fingers into his underwear and pauses. He's not sure why he's stopped, he was feeling more than comfortable about taking his underwear off just a moment ago and now…

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Do what makes you comfortable." 

And that's enough to get Dean moving again somehow as if it were a challenge. He keeps his back to Castiel, tossing the rest of his clothing off the canvas, only regretting it a little when he realises that he's going to have to walk to it afterwards. 

The climb onto the thigh-high podium, covered in cloth, is awkward when he’s trying to have some sense of modesty. It seems to be rapidly going out the window, even more so when he hand slips and all his limbs feel like they’re flying. He rights himself quickly and realises that the slight stumble had been very minor, enough that Castiel has barely even blinked when Dean looks back over as he gets into position.

One leg up, arms holding him up like he was sitting on the grass on campus with Charlie nattering next to him. He imagines the softbox as the sun and tilts his head back, eyes closed against the bright light. He hears a shutter, then another and then a deep hum. Dean opens one eye and looks over to Castiel who has his eyes narrowed at him. 

“Is this okay?” Dean asks. 

Castiel scrutinises him more and Dean wonders if he’s done something wrong or if he really isn’t what Castiel wanted now that he’s naked.

“Do you mind?” Castiel starts, and then he walks towards Dean. 

Dean’s cheeks pinken as Castiel gets closer.

“What?”

“I just want to move you a little - I know this is a test shoot, and none of the images are going to be published but I think it will be good to get them perfect. I need the light hitting you at the right angle in the right places. At the moment there’s a fair bit of shadow area so if you just…” Castiel’s hands are cooler than he expects as they gently encourage him to move his hips to the right and then hold his head back in a certain position. They stroke down his arm carefully, making goosebumps appear, though Dean suppresses a shiver that threatens to shake through him and mess up the positioning Castiel is working on. 

Beneath him, the fabric moves with him and Castiel's fingers nudge the flesh of his ass to uncrinkle it. A nervous cough breaks free from Dean. "Sorry."

"My fault for being such a perfectionist," Castiel states simply before stepping back and nodding his satisfaction. "Don't move."

Castiel goes back to his camera and takes more pictures. 

It carries on like that, taking photos of him nude but without his junk on show, all the way  until  Dean hears that the shuttering of the camera has ceased for a while. He opens his eyes to find Castiel looking at him intensely, back with the critical eye that’s thinking about more than what he probably sees on the surface. 

“What?” Dean asks. 

Castiel visibly swallows. “I don’t want to ask too much of you today, but will you let me take some more intimate photos?” 

Dean stops, dragging his knees to his chest and he thinks. He’d seen the photos online and what they entailed, he had read all the terms and conditions that went with applying and again when he sat down for coffee with Castiel just two hours ago. He knew exactly what he was walking into and yet now it all seems very real. 

No one knows he’s here and while he hasn’t exactly stuffed himself in the closet since he’s been at college, he hasn’t exactly been flaunting his liking of guys. Growing up with a father like John Winchester, has him set in his ways a little and he hasn’t been finding it easy to break out of it, and he wonders what people will think if they know what he’s doing. It’s not that Castiel is a man, more that there are intimate photos of him and he’s being paid for them to be taken. What does that make him? Some kind of glorified camboy? Not that he can judge when he absolutely watched and paid money towards a viewing that one time. 

He doesn’t want people to judge him, but he wants to be Dean Winchester, the guy who flirts, enjoys old westerns and sci-fi and ladies who can manhandle him. But also who reads Vonnegut in his downtime, watches chick flicks when no one else is around and loves the idea of holding onto another man in bed. 

“Dean, put your clothes back on, I’ll make us some more coffee and then I think we’re done for the day.” Castiel’s deep voice cuts through his thoughts like a knife and he hadn’t even realised he’d been sitting so long. 

It’s a challenge on instinct. “No, I can do it today. Just lost in thought is all.” 

But Castiel shakes his head sternly. “No. Not today. Come on, up you get. I’ll leave you to get dressed while I make coffee.” 

Dean doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Castiel is walking away, camera in hand towards the kitchenette. Dean watches as Castiel sets his camera on the desk where the computer is set up before setting the coffee machine going. Dean realises that he’s still sat stark naked on the box and hurries off of it to get dressed and hopes that he hasn’t blown his chances for this modelling gig. He could sure use the money, not to mention his interest in the ropes themselves. 

Sighing with a sense of unexpected relief when he’s redressed, Dean joins Castiel at the table where he’s handed a steaming cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he mutters. Dean warms his hands against the side of the mug as silence passes over them. He’s expecting Castiel to turn him down considering his actions when asked for intimate photos and he kinda hates how Castiel seems to be prolonging the rejection. What is the guy even waiting for?

“I’m pleased with what I’ve seen today. As I mentioned earlier you have a good form and definitely something I’m looking for and you’ve been great to work with - something I know will only grow once we begin properly. If that’s something you’re happy with?” 

Dean looks up sharply and is met with content blue eyes and a small smile. “You want to take me on?” Dean asks before taking a sip of the coffee that he knows is still too hot logically but he needs something to do with his hands. 

“Yes.”

“But I messed it up?” Dean queries.

“Did you?” Castiel’s head tilts to one side and christ the guy makes him use his damn words. 

“Of course I did - you asked for some more pictures and I freaked out, that’s not going to help anything.” Dean stares down at the table, noting the seemingly handmade look to it, the pristine surface that barely even has a coffee stain to it. 

“We’ve known each other for a few hours, Dean. That was a big ask to let me take photos of you naked. I’m basically a stranger right now, I understand your hesitations. If you don’t feel like you’ll ever be able to do it then perhaps we can work something out, but I’ve loved working with you and I feel like we already have a connection we can build on.”

“I know I can do it,” Dean says with eagerness. He doesn’t want to let Castiel down and he can tell it’s not just the money that’s driving him, it’s Castiel himself. “If you want me, I’ll do better.”

“You don’t need to do better, Dean. We can take things slow again like we did today. I won’t throw you into hot water.”

“Thanks,” Dean says with a smile. “I… um… I’d like to accept the offer then.”

“Wonderful!” Castiel says, standing up and then rummaging through the cupboard under the coffee machine. “This calls for cookies, and then I promise to let you go.” Castiel produces two boxes of girl scout cookies, and Dean can’t help but grin. The Tagalongs are his favourites. The other box are Lemonades. 

Castiel hands him one of the Lemonades and he finds it has a little message printed into the cookie:  _ I am strong _ . Huh. Dean gives the cookie a little smile before taking a bite and swallowing the lemony cookie down with his coffee. He thinks Castiel gave him that particular one on purpose, not that he minds and in a weird way it helps. He also scarfs down several Tagalongs when Castiel gives them to him when he tells Castiel they’re his favourite. 

As soon as the boxes are half empty and their coffee is gone, Castiel explains briefly how much Dean will be paid for today and hands over the right amount in cash. Five hundred dollars in cash. Dean leaves, feeling richer than he’s ever been, knowing he’ll be able to buy the books he needs for the rest of the semester at the least. 

“I’ll email you shortly about a schedule, I know you’re still at college so I can work around that with the deadlines that I have. Thank you for coming today.” Castiel waves him off in the lobby and Dean decides that he’s feeling good about the future sessions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a nice long bank holiday weekend for me, so I'm hoping to get some more writing done :D Thanks for your support! 
> 
> If there are any glaringly obvious errors let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient! This week was busier at work than expected so I didn't get as much done as I wanted and also managed to have an accident at work oops. This is my buffer chapter, the next one isn't quite done yet, because it's longer than I was thinking it would be
> 
> Anyway - here we are! Enjoy! I've been loving your comments and thoughts!

It’s two weeks later when Dean finds himself back in Castiel’s studio, it has been hard to find a good time to come with all the other work Dean has to do too. He knows Castiel is on a schedule with a deadline and he doesn’t want to fuck that up for him. 

“I bought more Tagalongs because you like them so much. It’ll be a good reward for us when we take a break for coffee. It’s going to be a pretty long day today to get into it. First, though, I want to go through some paperwork before we start.”

Dean sighs. 

“I’m sorry, there isn’t much, just some consent forms because of the nature of what we’re doing.”

The paperwork seems pretty standard, briefly passing over safewords which makes Dean’s brow raise and ask Castiel about it.

“This may be just photos to you, but it is still a scene of sorts and you having a way out is absolutely necessary. Of course, saying anything to get me to stop will be absolutely fine in our case but it’s good to have something concrete down just in case,” Castiel explains and Dean nods along. 

After what feels like an eternity and too much coffee, they’re ready to get going. Dean leaves for a few moments, going to the bathroom to relieve himself and giving himself a pep talk in the mirror.

“You can do this,” he tells himself, splashing water on his face and dabbing it dry with the paper towels. 

When he gets back into the studio, Castiel is setting up, currently with his head in the large chest that Dean had been curious about the first time. Moments later, Castiel pulls out several lengths of rope, all different colours. It’s the pure white one that gets set on the podium box in the middle of the canvased area first.

“Are you ready, Dean?” Castiel asks, flipping through the settings on his camera.

“Yeah, I think so. Do you need me to… uh… take anything off?” Dean wonders, looking down at himself. He wore his jeans again and a different flannel and plain black shirt and he can feel when Castiel looks him up and down. 

"Just the flannel." 

Dean removes his flannel, leaving him in short sleeves, then he perches on the corner of the podium. 

"Keep your arms in front of you but touch your forearms together up to your elbows. I'm going to do some basic ties. Your plain shirt was a good choice, I can photograph against it well and the bright rope will be good contrast." 

Dean follows his instructions carefully and then watches with intrigue as the rope loops and knots against his wrists creating a chain up his forearms. Castiel's hands are warm, handling him gently and carefully, keeping the ropes firm but not tight against him. 

Watching intently makes Dean's stomach tingle and he finds himself hiding his breath regularly. It's not the reaction he expected. It's just a photoshoot, he's still clothed and Castiel has barely even touched him. 

It's obvious there are a few more knots to do, to make it even, but Castiel pauses and lays a heavy hand on his upper arm. The unexpected grip makes Dean look up, blinking rapidly to shake away the haze he hadn't realised has come over him.

"Are you with me, Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean replies, not sure why Castiel is asking him like that. 

"We're going to pause for a moment, I'll get you a glass of water and I need to ask you some more questions," Castiel tells him. 

Dean nods and then Castiel is across the room, filling a glass of water from the tap before bringing it back to Dean. With his hands tied, Castiel brings the glass to his lips and Dean drinks quickly. 

"Dean, do you know what subspace is?"

"Yeah, 'course." 

"Well, apparently you're pretty susceptible to it."

"Sorry." The apology is out of his mouth before Dean even knows what he's apologising for. 

"Nothing to be sorry about, just good to have found out now rather than later. I just need to be more acutely aware of where your head is."

"My head is just fine," Dean grouses, harsher than he meant. He goes to move his arms but finds he can't and then that tingling sensation is back. 

He's sure he sees Castiel smirk a little but plays it off and sits still. 

"I know your head is fine, but what I'm saying is that I think you're beginning to drift into subspace - which isn't a bad thing before you yell at me again - it's just good to know so I can keep an eye on your reactions, make sure you're still able to tell me to stop when you need to. I'm trying to keep you safe here," he explains and Dean relaxes. 

"Okay."

"Let's carry on, I think we can have some fun with this." 

Dean takes on board the words but doesn’t think much of them as Castiel resumes tying his arms. The rope is…  _ pretty _ … around his arms. He likes the way it looks a lot, and how it feels — tight but not too tight — and he smiles. 

Before he knows it Castiel has finished and is beginning to position him. 

"Can you turn to the left a little, so you're straddling the corner?"

Dean moves this way and that under Castiel's instructions. Castiel's camera is close to him, and one specific image has Castiel on one knee in front of him. Castiel moves Dean’s arms, then the lens of the camera is almost touching his fingers as several photos up the length of his arms are taken. Dean can feel Castiel's steady breath on his skin. 

"How are your arms feeling? Nothing too tight?" 

"Nope, all good," Dean replies as he keeps his eyes on Castiel. 

Dean feels himself drifting again in the silence. Castiel stands, wanders around and then comes back to move him again. Dean goes willingly. 

More photos, more moving and then Castiel is talking to him.

"I'm going to undo these ties and we'll change position. How do you feel about taking your shirt off?"

"I can take my shirt off," Dean tells him a little too enthusiastically, making Castiel chuckle. 

"Alright, not so fast, let me just…" Castiel goes quiet as he works to open the knots and the pretty pattern down his arms disappear leaving small indentations and nothing more. 

Dean sighs heavily and then there's a light tug on the bottom of his shirt. He lets it be taken off and then he's spun round. 

Castiel's foot goes between his own and Dean feels himself tense up. He's not sure what Castiel is trying to do, but as his arms are folded together behind his back, he finds himself relaxing. 

"This is going to be a chest harness, there'll be a knot at your sternum," Castiel reaches around his body and presses a light finger to his chest. "and it will be crossed over at you back too."

Dean nods, finding that he liked the combination of being surprised over what he was doing and also told what was happening right at the moment he could have panicked. 

"The photographs I'll be taking I'll need you on your knees—"

Dean doesn't mean to cut him off, but a light huff if laughter bursts from him. It shouldn't be funny, and it isn't. Dean chalks it up to being nervous, which he is.  _ It's only photos _ , Dean reminds himself. 

"As I'd like to get some shots from above." 

"Okay." Dean turns when Castiel presses a hand against one shoulder and then the ropes are looped over his shoulders and then around his chest. His pecs isn't toned, not like he's seen in videos and he notices how the flesh squishes a little as the ropes go underneath. 

"Dean, look at me," Castiel says quietly, and Dean's eyes snap up to Castiel's. "I can tell what you're thinking, and we've been through this. I'll tell you as many time as you need to hear it, but I promise you, your body is perfect the way it is. If I wanted a man who was solid muscle and no give and play about him, then I wouldn't have taken you on as a model."

"I know, logically I know, but I still—"

"I had eight applications for this photoshoot in particular. There were a couple that were highly toned and muscled, but the world doesn't need more of the same view of men. I know how damaging it can be to have those images around, I can see that in you, too." Castiel tightens the knots around his chest and suddenly what was a loose harness becomes an instant sense of security. Castiel's thumbs run over his chest, brushing his nipples and causing Dean to let out an involuntary gasp. "I want to show the world that beauty isn't in how muscled someone is, but in how they carry themselves and look at themselves. I'd like to ask one more thing of you today."

Dean looks back down, eyes scanning over what he can see of the chest harness. Crosses and loops and knots, he can't quite see how it comes together but it feels good and that's all that matters. "What's that?"

"I want you to love yourself as you are."

"I don't—" Dean looks down again. His pecs protrude a little, not too much, as does his stomach. His upper arms hold a fair bit of his strength and he knows that underneath, his core is strong too. He's strong, but perhaps more naturally through his own hard work to keep himself afloat during college. Carrying several plates through a busy diner requires balance, dexterity and coordination, lest he trips over a child running around. 

Castiel levels him with a pleading look, hands still touching the ropes around his chest and it's not a look he can compete with. He can certainly try. 

"I'll try," Dean tells him and the resulting smile from Castiel makes Dean's knees weak. 

Neither of them seems to stop smiling through the rest of the session. It makes Dean feel good. They even end up laughing when Castiel trips over the podium and Dean nearly ends up face planting the floor with no hands to catch him. 

When Castiel announces he’s finished, setting his camera on the desk on the other side of the room, Dean rolls his shoulders a little. As much as he has enjoyed being tied up like this, it’s going to feel good to get his arms moving again. 

“Move slowly,” Castiel warns quietly as the ropes loosen around him. 

Dean takes a deep breath as if he hasn’t been able to for the last half an hour, then lets his arms drop to his sides. What he doesn’t expect is Castiel’s thumbs digging in and massaging his aching muscles. He groans with delight and sighs.

“Oh, that feels good,” he tells him and belatedly realises that his dick is joining the enjoyment too. “Um, I think I’m okay now.” 

Dean presses his knees together and hopes that he isn’t blushing, maybe if Castiel goes over to his computer for a moment, he can take himself to the toilet outside and adjust himself. 

It doesn’t escape Castiel’s notice, though. “It’s understandable if you’re aroused. I’m not here to judge.”

Dean nearly splutters. “I’m… um… it’ll go down. Just give me a minute.” Dean hopes and hopes that it’s enough to make Castiel leave him be for a moment because he’s sure even just looking at the man isn’t going to make it go away faster and will probably make the  _ problem _ worse. 

It makes Dean wonder - though he really doesn’t need his thoughts to stray right now - if people realise just how good looking the guy is behind the camera of all those sensual photographs. Dean looks back, finding Castiel bending over his desk chair and awkwardly doing something on the computer. 

His erection isn’t going anywhere soon, so he stands and makes his way over to the little table where Castiel is now putting together two cups of coffee. Walking makes everything rub in all the ways he wishes it wouldn’t, but he goes with it, hoping that a coffee and some of Castiel’s cookies will calm him down again. 

“Has the ache subsided?” Castiel asks. 

Dean’s cheeks must glow when he asks, and he can feel it too, his gaze flicking down to his pants where his hard-on is just about waning. 

“In your shoulders,” he clarifies and Dean’s relieved that he does. 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Good. Next time I want to try some full-body shots. Do you shave?” Castiel flips open an A4 notebook, already adorned with his scrawl and doodles, asking him the question as if he asked about the weather. 

“Shave? I mean, I can if you want me to, but I haven’t in a while,” Dean admits.

“No, no. You don’t need to shave for me.” For me. _ For me.  _ The words rattle inside Dean’s head. “I just want to know in advance what I’m working with so I can think about the shots I’d like to have and which ties I’m going to use. If you did shave, I would use something that would highlight it, but as you don’t I can do something different instead.”

“Okay. So… um I’ll be naked for the next shoot?” Dean asks, even though he knows the answer logically, something makes him need to hear it out loud.

“Yes, that’s right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, I'm glad you seem to be enjoying this :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has been a little while, sleep and work caught up on me and all the chances I thought I'd get to write fell from my grasp, but here I am with Chapter 4 and it's longer than the others have been and hey there's not one but TWO bits of smut in here and of course all the caring Cas you can shake a stick at! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, left kudos and wrote comments! It really helped me keep writing! ♥♥

Dean barely makes it through the door before he's undoing the button of his jeans and pressing a firm hand against his groin. His reaction to the photoshoot that day, while not unwelcome, has left him hornier than he's been in a long while.

He goes to his bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot before practically stumbling out of his pants and shoving his boxers down and tossing them off the side of his bed. His bedside drawer creaks open and he digs around aimlessly for the bottle of lube that he knows is there  _ somewhere.  _ Dean's hand wraps around it eventually, while the other wraps around his quickly chubbing dick. He gives the bottle of lube a single pump before spreading it over his dick and letting it slick the way faster than building up precome will. 

Dean doesn't think of anything but the photoshoot, from Castiel's voice and directions, to the ghostly feeling of the rope on his skin. He relishes in the memories as he strips his dick with enthusiastic vigour. He thinks about some of the last words Castiel said to him, and imagines himself stripping off in front of Castiel with the confidence he's not sure he has in real life but in his imagination he has an abundance of. 

Clearing his throat of a groan that is bubbling up, Dean's head presses back hard into his pillow as the arousal coils low in his stomach. 

_ It's understandable if you're aroused.  _ Those are the words Dean cums to. The deep, gravelly voice which seems just as turned on as he was. White streaks land on his shirt as he groans, body heating up and limbs going weak. He briefly wonders if it's inappropriate, but it's too late and the deed is done. Maybe he won't look at Castiel the same now, but he hopes it won't be too awkward to stand in front of the man, stark naked and photographed with warm lights against his body and ropes adorning his skin. 

Dean sighs at the thought and begs his body not to react, one orgasm is enough for now. 

* * *

Dean quits DoorDashing in the next week leading to the next session with Castiel. He's making enough money with the photographer to last him a long while, especially for a fraction of the effort; after all, he just has to undress and look pretty for the camera. Besides, it will mean more time with Castiel if he’s not working all the time. 

He's back at Castiel's studio before he knows it, and he's sure he's barely taken anything in from his classes all week. He's feeling unexpectedly confident considering his previous failures and last weeks' worries and Dean can only hope that lasts. 

Castiel greets him with a bright smile and he's wearing a crisp looking white dress shirt, the top two buttons are undone and the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His dark slacks seem to hug his lower figure and don't leave much to his imagination. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean says, voice thankfully not giving away his enjoyment for Castiel's outfit nor his nervousness for the day ahead of him. He'd showered twice, just in case he wasn't clean enough the first time, despite it being illogical to be so. 

"Hello, Dean. Come on in, I have coffee before we start." 

As coffee starts flowing, Castiel chats idly about the new contract he has with Balthazar, the owner of the gallery downtown that showcases his works. For a moment, Dean forgets what's ahead of him and he relaxes in the chair and sips the last dregs of his coffee from the bottom of the mug. 

Castiel seems to notice and smiles at him. "I want you to answer me honestly, there's no right or wrong answer, and I don't want you to feel like you owe me an answer just to appease me but," Castiel begins, with a gentle smile and leaning forward in his chair with his hands wrapped around his mug. "Do you feel safe here?" 

Dean instantly goes to nod, but then pauses; the door gets locked while they're in here, there are no cameras that he’s seen aside from the one in the hallway outside the door, the windows are curtained to give the best lighting inside the room and well, Castiel seems like a good person, good to him too, kind and honest. So, yes. Dean nods.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course," he tells him. 

Castiel’s smile brightens a little. “Thank you for being honest, Dean. Now,” he says, standing and rubbing his hands together in what Dean feels like a far too gleeful manner. “What do you say to getting undressed so I can get shooting?”

The sudden announcement of it makes Dean feel like he’s going to panic but then after a moment he doesn’t and he realises that he’s still feeling relaxed and safe. “I’m ready.” 

Dean stands too, then makes his way over to where the tripod and the softboxes are already set up. He shrugs off his flannel and he still feels good, none of this is new, yet. With one hand on the back of his shirt, Dean pulls it off in one swift movement and stretches out his back muscles in the process. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Castiel is watching him but he doesn't dwell on it too much and begins to undo his belt and flies before shoving his pants to the floor. It's warmer than usual in the studio, and Dean wonders if Castiel turned up the temperature on purpose so he wouldn't be cold.

Castiel comes over to him, camera in hand. Dean hesitates for a moment, watching him flick through various settings before mounting it on the tripod. 

"Are you okay, Dean?" Castiel asks, and Dean notices how he's not looking at him, waiting for him to be undressed. 

"'m fine," Dean mumbles, then tugs slowly at his boxers until they drop to the floor. His cheeks heat up involuntarily as he takes a deep breath and straightens up. 

"Ah, perfect." Castiel's gaze finally looks over to his naked body, raking up and down in what he hopes is approval. 

Lastly, Dean toes off his socks, adding then to the haphazard pile of clothes. 

Dean doesn’t notice the long rope Castiel had retrieved from the box until it’s right in front of him. It's in a nice dark red colour, one that matched the fabric he sat on for the test shoot. 

"I'm going to be doing a set of diamond knots today - they'll begin at your sternum and work down to your genitals and then looping underneath and connecting at around the small of your back which is what will tighten it all together. I will ask if you'd like the extra pleasure knots that will go between your buttocks, no pressure either way, it's good stimulation for pleasure." 

Dean shivers pleasantly at the thought. "Um… yes…yes please, if… yeah." He's an absolute wreck already and Castiel hasn't even started yet. Dean just hopes he doesn't shoot his load accidentally while Castiel is touching him and embarrass himself. 

"The process in itself is just as sensual as when you're wearing it, so please don't be afraid of any sensations you feel as we're doing this, it's all normal and completely okay. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just tell me to stop or back off and I will. You also have your safeword too, don't forget." 

Dean nods and watches as Castiel finds the bight in the rope. "I'm ready."

"Good," he says with a smile. Dean's really beginning to like Castiel's smile, enjoying how the small quirk of his lips sends a flurry of butterflies through his body. He sure hopes it's normal to be a little bit in love with the man taking photos of your naked body. Even if it's not, he's not sure he has a lot of choice in the matter. "I'll talk you through everything we're doing, okay?"

"Okay."

"So the bight is going over your head and will sit at the top of the small of your back," he starts and Dean feels as Castiel's cool hands rest against the skin halfway down his back. He makes every effort not to jump or squirm. "Then I'll make several knots down your body." 

The way Castiel knots is careful and precise and the vibrations of the rope against itself go straight through him. He makes sure that the tail ends don't flick up and hit him anywhere and that each knot sits relatively comfortably against him. There's four going down his front, the last one sitting just above his dick. 

“I’m just going to reach under, splitting the rope here to go around your penis and tie that extra knot.” 

With Castiel’s face so close to his junk, Dean’s face heats up and then the rope is being knotted again and passed between his thighs. He feels that extra knot press up against his ass cheeks before Castiel takes hold of the initial bight and pulls it all tight for a moment. 

Dean gasps and jerks, going up on the balls of his feet before settling down again. “Oh…  _ oh _ .”

“Does that feel good?” 

Dean wishes he had more than a grunt to respond but it’s all he has and it makes Castiel chuckle darkly. Dean feels the rope being passed through the bight and then warm, steady hands are holding him firmly as he’s turned around. That fuzzy feeling of subspace is returning quickly and it brings a smile to his face as he closes his eyes and focuses on the sensations of the rope. 

“Now it’s going to loop around just above your chest,” he explains and then the rope brushes slowly over his skin. “And anchor the top of the harness.” More rope gets pulled through and Dean feels it  _ everywhere _ . 

“That vibration is so nice,” he mumbles. Castiel strokes his shoulder with a thumb and it feels like a reward. 

The process carries on down his body, and his legs begin to weaken, only strengthening when Castiel starts talking again, reminding him what he’s doing. 

"One last…" The ropes cinch tight around Dean's body and he groans. "Pull. That okay?"

"Yeah."

"And knotting it with a box knot at the back. I'm done." 

Castiel steps backwards and eyes Dean up and down. Dean can't see what he looks like but it must be good with the way Castiel is eyeing him. 

"Turn slowly," Castiel instructs and Dean does, spinning on one heel with his arms out to his sides a little. "Beautiful." Castiel's smiling. 

"It feels good."

"I'm glad. Now, I want you up on that low podium and we can get shooting. If you start to get uncomfortable, please tell me." 

"I will," Dean says and it feels easy, finally, like he's really getting to know Castiel, even if he doesn't know too much about him. Maybe he should change that, maybe over Tagalongs and coffee later. That sounds nice. 

"...Dean? Dean?" He focuses back to Castiel calling him and snaps his gaze to sharp blue eyes. "There you are."

"I'm here."

"I need your arms up, reaching back behind you." 

Dean moves and, as he shifts, the ropes tighten and press into his ribs, his shoulder, his  _ ass _ . His dick is getting interested very fast. 

"That's perfect!" he calls and Dean watches out the corner of his eye as Castiel adjusts the softboxes and his camera a little to get the best lighting and angles. 

Dean hears nothing but his own measured breathing and the clicking of the shutter for the next few minutes, coupled with the occasional hum and sigh from Castiel. 

"I want you in the same position but kneeling, now," Castiel orders gently and Dean gets to his knees on an instinct he didn't know he had. "Good boy." 

Dean freezes and hesitantly looks over to Castiel who doesn't seem phased by what he said. Dean's dick, however, twitches. 

"And now, sit back on your heels, head bowed a little. Shoulders back." 

As he does the ropes shift and vibrate all over him, sending tickles of signals to everything sensitive. He lets out a sigh, trying to release some of the tension but it comes out as more of a groan.

"You're doing great, Dean." 

Dean wishes Castiel would stop singing praises at him, simply for the reason that it's making his dick swell and he's not sure how he wants to deal with it. If he casts his eyes down, Dean can see himself, bobbing a little between his thighs.

There's more shuffling of the softboxes and then Castiel gets up close and a little too personal with his dick, taking photos of it where the ropes cross, Dean assumes. It makes him blush and Dean looks up, trying to hide it, but all it seems to do is tighten the ropes around him and make his dick pulse. There are several shutter clicks by his ear and Dean knows that his pink-tinged cheeks did not go amiss.

"So perfect," Castiel says, whispering the words close to his ear. "I'm nearly done, then we can get you out of these ropes and cooled down a little, hmm?"

"Yessir." Dean breathes deeply, chests heaving. The stimulation is beginning to eat at him, desperate for release and he knows he won't be able to make it home safely unless he does something. 

Time seems to run by faster when he's feeling like this and before he knows it, Castiel's arms are looping around his body. His firsts instinct is to struggle a little, unprepared for the solid touch but he soon lets Castiel help him back to his feet, albeit a little wobbly. 

"I'm going to keep hold of you while the ropes come off, okay. Then we're going to sit down for a little bit, and drink some water and have a bit of food, then we're going to have a talk about what we've done today." Castiel's voice is soothing and the ropes begin to untangle from his body with as much simulation as when they were being put on. It must be the combination of the vibrations and being held against Castiel's chest but it seems to send him right back into the subspace he just pulled himself out of. 

By the end of it, Dean knows he's elsewhere. Thinking about nothing, which is strange. His head feels like an empty white space, only filled with Castiel. 

A glass of water is pressed into his pliant hands. 

"Drink," Castiel says.

He does; the icy water is bringing him back to the present easily and he looks back up once his glass is empty to find himself across from Castiel at the little kitchenette table. He's flicking through his camera and nibbling on a Lemonade with a small smile on his lips.

"How are you feeling? Anything you need from me?" 

"I'm okay," Dean says. Castiel reaches across the table so subtly that Dean doesn't notice that Castiel is holding his arm gently. "Still… um…" He looks down at his dick at half-mast under his underwear, begging for something. "Hard from, yeah."

"If you'd like a hand?"

Dean chuckles and he's desperate to say yes but he shakes his head. What if it blurs the lines between them, it's not like he can deny that he's attracted to Castiel — at least not to himself. "No, it's okay. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" 

"Go ahead if you're sure. I don't mind, Dean, it doesn't have to be anything more than professional. I have just spent the last forty-five minutes working you up." 

Dean's sure he sees a playful smirk from Castiel but it morphs into a gentle smile before he shoves his half nibbled lemonade into his mouth. 

Dean's breathing quickens a little. It would be so easy just to let Castiel take care of him like he wants, and Castiel isn’t making it easier, not with the way his eyebrow is quirked in his direction. 

“Okay.”  _ Okay? Okay!  _

“Stand up and come here, then.”

The chair scrapes loudly across the floor as Dean stands up and his heart beats wildly in his chest. His palms are sweaty, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t quite know why he’s so worked up. It’s not like Castiel is the first guy to give him a hand job. He’s had plenty of them in his time at college. Maybe it’s just Castiel and he wants this so much. 

As soon as Dean steps into Castiel’s personal space, the other man is up on his feet. Strong arms encase his body, one of Castiel’s palms against the middle of his still bare chest and the other at the waistband of his boxer briefs. Dean’s back is against Castiel’s shirted chest and if Dean hadn’t already known that Castiel was a dominant, then this would have been his biggest clue. He exudes it in every aspect of himself and it makes Dean weak. He wants to hate it, but after being tied up and photographed today, he doesn’t have it in him and for once lets himself enjoy the sensation of being thoroughly taken care of. 

Dean’s done enough taking care of people in his life, he deserves this. 

“Dean, are you still okay with this?” 

Dean nods, then lets his head fall back onto Cas’ shoulder. “Please.” 

“Alright, I want you to be good for me like I know you can be, and stay still.”

The instructions alone get him hard again and he’s almost certain that he can feel Castiel’s erection pressing into his ass. It’s easy to forget about that, though, when Castiel’s hand breaches his waistband and slips across his hairs and down to his dick. 

The warm hand wraps around him and Dean gasps, then slowly the hand begins to move, fingers sweeping over the head and working his pre-cum into natural lube to ease the way. Dean’s knees threaten to buckle under his own weight, but Castiel has a good hold of him. 

“I’ve got you, no need to worry, just focus on my hand,” Castiel whispers into his ear, so Dean closes his eyes and  _ feels _ . 

His stomach is tight, knotted with deep arousal, waiting to burst free and he’s back in that room again in his mind, where Castiel stands before him and he’s on his knees. His briefs are tucked under his balls, pushing them up in reach of Castiel’s hand and he stops touching Dean’s dick to roll them gently between his fingers and then slipping beneath the waistband again. A single finger presses on his perineum. Dean lets out something between a moan and a shout and he cums. 

Castiel works him through his orgasm until his legs are jelly and nothing more than incoherent mumbles leave his lips. 

“That was perfect, Dean. Good boy.” 

A whine escapes his throat at the words. Dean feels sated, relaxed and damn better than he has all week and he's amazed it all came from one orgasm. Well, the orgasm and being tied up by Castiel. 

"Thanks," Dean says, breathless. His heart rate is slowly coming back down and Castiel is still holding on to him tight as he gets feeling back into his legs and is able to stand up on his own without collapsing on the ground. 

They clean up quickly with a washcloth Castiel hands him and Castiel strokes his hand down Dean’s arm. 

"Has anyone ever told you you'd be an excellent sub?" Castiel asks, leading him back to the table to sit back down. Before Castiel joins him, he picks up Dean's clothes, handing him back his shirt. 

Dean slips it on and frowns. "Once. It was a mistake though. I was nineteen, didn't know what I was doing and neither did she. We did things we probably shouldn't have and we didn't line up and she said some things to me I've never really forgotten." It feels easy to come clean to Castiel somehow like he doesn't need to lie or hide that part of him away. 

"She degraded you," Castiel surmises correctly so Dean nods. 

Amara had had all these ideas in her head about what Dean needed but none of it had been right. None of it made him feel good and most the time he went back home to his bed and hid his tears from everyone. Of course, his own father had never helped either.  _ What are you crying for, you're a grown-ass man.  _

"She did. Not really in a sexy way either. It didn't last long. She was clingy but I wasn't sticking around for her." 

"You thrive on praise," Castiel tells him. "It's frankly quite beautiful, she missed out." 

Dean takes a cookie and doesn't say any more. He feels skittish, like he could fly out the door any moment, and part of him wishes he would. He's said more to Castiel in the last ten minutes than he has to anyone else ever. 

"Thank you, for today. You've got a couple of assignments coming up, right? And I've got a fast-approaching deadline for the gallery opening. I'd like to get a few more sessions in, but I don't want to impede on your education or work. Perhaps we could work in an evening rather than a full day?"

Dean's glad for the subject change, and for one that's as bland as choosing the next date for shooting. 

"I quit my job DoorDashing, so I'm free more evenings now. Just work at the Roadhouse on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays." 

"Friday evening, then? What time do you finish class?" 

"Uh, I think four on Friday." 

"Then I'll see you here at six?" Castiel's smile is disarming, and Dean nods. "Alright, then. We'll do something similar to tonight, I want to start my other project with the colours. You're the perfect candidate for it and I think the gallery will love you." 

"Okay." A gallery? That's intense but something he's looking forward to seeing. It's one thing having pictures taken of him, and another seeing them on display in public. 

Slowly they make their way to the door. Dean is fully redressed, tying his bootlace when Castiel stops, leaning against the wall and giving Dean that scrutinising look. 

"Tonight, or tomorrow—any time really—if you feel off, or down or anything not quite your usual self, please call me and we'll work through it together."

Dean knows he'll be fine, he's just received the best hand job in history but he indulges Castiel anyway. "Sure. I'm okay though. Thanks." 

Dean slips out the door, and back down the stairs. Becky is still at the front desk and she eyes him with a far too knowing smile before carrying on with whatever she was writing in her notebook. 

He sits in the Impala for a good few minutes and is suddenly hit with how exhausted he is. Despite an impending assignment turn in, he knows he won't make it far enough through it to be any good. He can just wake up early tomorrow morning and finish it off. Tonight he can go to sleep early and rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know of any glaring errors that you see and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Some of your comments inspired the events of this chapter when I realised it would make a lot of sense and show some good progression - yes, you heard it, thiiiings are gonna be happening here! 
> 
> So have some Dean angst and Cas being his lovely self! 
> 
> Thank you again for all your amazing comments!
> 
> This chapter was beta'd by @fikidurin :D ♥

Dean’s alarm startles him awake the next morning. He rolls over and it takes several attempts to turn the damn thing off before he lies back against his pillow and stares at his ceiling. 

_Ugh_. 

Just the thought of his assignment pulls him out of bed and to the coffee maker he and Aaron have in their dorm room. His roommate is still dead to the world, and Dean doubts he'll even wake up to the smell of coffee. 

When the coffee’s made, and the first sip is taken, Dean sits down at his desk beside his bed and starts up his laptop. He rubs his eyes, then drags a hand down his face. He feels… a little strange, like he went out drinking last night but he knows he didn't. 

_"If you feel off, or down, or anything not quite your usual self, please call me"_ Castiel had told him yesterday. Dean shakes his head, it's not that, he just has a lot on his plate. Between assignments, working and classes Dean just doesn't have a lot of downtime, and he's probably just stressed. This assignment alone is a small chunk of his final grade and that's enough to cause him unease. 

He's fine. He doesn't need to call and whine to Castiel about his overfilled schedule. This probably _is_ his usual self by now, he's just tired. 

Dean sighs, logging into his laptop and setting out the books and notes he needs. He starts, or at least he tries. A blank page stares back at him for a long time, enough for his coffee to go mostly undrunk and cold. Enough time for Aaron to groan and wake up and pour himself a cup of what remains in the carafe. 

"Dude. That assignment isn't going to write itself. You okay?" Aaron nudges Dean's elbow and the screen comes back into focus. 

"What? I'm fine. I'm fine. Just waking up I guess." Dean's lying through his teeth and he knows it. 

With a big breath, Dean decides to try something else. Pushing his chair back and pulling a flannel and his jacket out of the closet and a fresh shirt and jeans from his drawers, Dean gets dressed and packs up his laptop and books. 

"I'm heading to The Beanery, maybe some better coffee and background noise will be good for me." 

Aaron just nods, shedding his pyjama top and beginning to get changed himself. Dean leaves him to it, hoisting his heavy bag on his shoulder and heading out of the building. 

Part of Dean expected the brisk walk in the chilly morning air to liven him up, but when he sits down with his large coffee, and a pastry that took his fancy when he got to the counter and now doesn't appetise him, he still feels inherently unenthused. 

He pulls his phone out, scrolling his contacts until he finds Castiel and stares at the number on the screen. After several minutes of debating just how he's feeling—which is fine, he's fine. Just… tired… and guilty and worried. Fine.

"You look like shit." Charlie unexpectedly lands with a _thump,_ dropping down on the couch next to him. 

Usually, Charlie's company is a godsend, but today she inadvertently riles him up instantly and he ignores her. He pulls his laptop out heavy-handedly, practically dropping it on the table in front of him. 

"Hey, grumpy-face, stop being such a bitch."

Dean looks round to her. "What?" 

"Come on, who pissed in your coffee? Was it Aaron? Did he keep you up late, or maybe whatever that new job you've got and won't tell me about?" 

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself." 

"I'm…" Dean falters. _Tonight, tomorrow — anytime really._ "I need to make a call." 

"Okay." Charlie's voice softens. "Whatever it is, do you want me to stay, or I can go take myself to the ladies for a few minutes."

Dean's thumb hovers over the call button, Castiel's number displayed across the screen. "Stay?" 

Two gentle taps to his thigh and Charlie stays right beside him. Dean presses _call_. 

It rings, and rings, and rings. Dean has a moment of panic that Castiel isn't going to pick up at all, and then he wonders if he's going to feel like this forever. Maybe he'll just go back to his dorm room again and hide under his sheets and pretend everything is okay.

" _Hello? Dean? Hello?_ " Castiel's voice filters through the speaker. 

"Hey." 

There must be something in his voice. "Oh, Dean. Are you okay? Are you safe?" Castiel sounds calm, unwavering and strong through the phone and Dean finds himself clinging to it. 

The urge to lie is right on the tip of his tongue again, like it always is. Castiel is too perceptive for his lies - just like Charlie. "No. I mean I am safe. Just not okay. I'm sorry." 

Charlie squeezes his thigh in comfort to his words, even though she doesn't have the context or half the conversation. Maybe one day he can tell her. Not today, though. 

"No need to be sorry. Where are you?"

"You don't need to come—you're probably busy and I don't wanna interrupt."

"Not busy. Just let me do this."

Dean sighs. He doesn't want to be a hassle. "I'm at The Beanery on campus." 

"Oh, I remember it well. Do they still do those raspberry turnovers?" Castiel sounds cheerful on the phone and for a moment it successfully distracts Dean. He looks down at the plate next to his laptop where the very same turnover is sitting uneaten. 

"Yeah, yeah they do." 

"Give me twenty minutes and I'll be there, okay. Are you with anyone?" 

"Um, my friend Charlie is here."

"Well, stay with them. I'll see you soon." 

Dean mumbles a goodbye and they both hang up. 

"You gonna be good?"

"I think so."

"Good," Charlie says with a nod before launching into a distracting monologue about the LARP at the weekend. She's been trying to get Dean into it for months, but he hasn't had the time to spare. He wants the good grades and to get there he needs to put in the work. 

The coffee shop is pretty busy but somehow Dean catches the moment Castiel breezes through the door. He zones out quickly from Charlie's rambling. 

"I guess that's who you're waiting for?" Charlie asks, nudging him with a playful smirk. 

Dean nods. "Yeah. Um, thanks, and I'm sorry for earlier. Video games this weekend?" he asks. He owes Charlie some of his time, just for bailing on her the last few weeks. 

"Don't ditch me, handmaiden," she says as an affirmative. 

"I won't," Dean tells her, a smile finding its way to his lips. 

"Handmaiden?" Castiel's gentle voice greets him. 

"Hey Cas," Dean says. "Charlie's the Queen of Moondoor, she's been trying to get me to join for a while now." 

"Oh, I see. Well, you're looking at a former mage to the previous King of Moondoor." Castiel smirks. Dean stares back at him in disbelief. He'd been under the impression that Castiel had probably been the artsy kid in college, more interested in just his photography than anything else. "Now, is your coffee cold?"

"Huh?" Dean looks over to his forgotten coffee, no longer steaming. "Oh, probably." 

"I'll be back." With a squeeze to his shoulder, Castiel takes off, joining the short queue. The feel of Castiel's hand on his shoulder lingers, seeping through him like a warmth he hasn't felt in a long time. Realistically, Dean knows he's only been feeling like that since he woke up. 

Castiel is acting so _different_ . It's not a bad thing, just unexpected. He's friendlier, his presence is less dominating and yet all Dean is craving is his touch, like it's going to solve all of his problems. Maybe Dean's just so fragile right now that Castiel touching him again actually _is_ going to solve his problems.

"Two coffees. One for you," Castiel says as he sits back down beside him, pressing up closer than Dean expected him to. 

"Thanks." 

"Do people know?" Castiel asks after a moment of silence. 

Dean furrows his brow and then he understands his question. "Oh, um… I guess." He's never particularly told anyone, but he doesn't have much interest in hiding it either. Charlie knows he's bisexual and he's sure Aaron knows as well. 

In response, Castiel presses up closer. Dean holds his breath. An arm goes around his shoulder and holds him tight. It almost seems too intimate for such a public place, but damn if he doesn’t every inch of comfort that Castiel is giving him. He didn't want this to help, but he won't deny that it does. Instead, Dean slowly releases his breath, calm and measured, and lets himself sink into Castiel. 

"It's going to pass," Castiel whispers into his ear. 

If his emotions were tangible, they would have fallen out of him. "Seems so stupid," he says, and then adds quietly, "Was just a handjob." 

"Well, I'd say it was more than that. It was a big step yesterday and then we were intimate on top of that, and I don't think either of us were truly prepared for that. It doesn't change anything, I still want you as my model."

"Doesn't change anything…" Dean repeats, the words feel heavy on his tongue. 

"Dean? Look at me." 

Dean looks up, Castiel's eyes looking incredibly blue from this vantage point. 

"Let's drink our coffee and maybe go somewhere more private," Castiel says.

* * *

Somewhere more private ended up being Dean's dorm room. Aaron was thankfully out which meant they could be alone. Closing the door behind him, Dean steps into the middle of the small space as Castiel scans the room. 

"This place hasn't changed a bit. I only left two years ago, but nonetheless. Come on, let's lie down." 

"Lie down?" Dean asks, dumbly. He doesn't feel tired and realistically he has things to do, but then Castiel looks impatient, like he's not going to take any of his shit. 

Dean pulls off his flannel and crawls onto his bed, lying back on the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. The bed dips next to him and he glances over to see that Castiel has shed his jacket. Underneath is a plain t-shirt and he looks more casual than when they shoot together. 

"Come here, Dean." An arm worms its way underneath Dean's back and he accepts it, rolling over so that he's close to Cas. "Let's just lie here for a bit. I know you have things to do, but you also need to look after your own wellbeing first, and if you're not up for it yourself then I guess I'll have to help." 

Dean's body is embraced fully and he sinks into Castiel. Silence reigns over them for several minutes, but Dean's mind doesn't stop whirring. 

"Isn't this wrong?" Dean wonders. It's the biggest thing on his mind—Castiel is his employer.

"Is what wrong?" Castiel shifts a little, the sheets rustling under them. 

"’Cause… you know. You pay me." 

"Is that what's eating at you?" 

Dean nods into Castiel's warm chest. "Yeah, but I want this," Dean explains quickly, his heart beating wildly in his chest at the admission. "It feels good, more than just sex good. It's… fuck… it's—" he falters and buries his face away from Castiel's view.

Castiel only holds him tighter, and he thinks, for a moment, that some of what he had been feeling is melting away slowly. A hand finds the back of his neck, caressing the short hairs there and sending shivers down his spine. Castiel just seems to know how to do the right thing. 

Dean breathes deeply. 

"That's it. Just breathe." 

Dean doesn't know when he falls asleep but soon enough he's waking up to a noise at the door. 

"Oh shit… shit, fuck…. dammit. So sorry, Dean, I didn't… I'll just go. Text me when you're uh… done." Aaron's embarrassed rambling disappears with the sound of the door closing. 

Dean sits up. He swipes a hand down his face and looks around to find Castiel perched on the edge of his bed with one of his textbooks in his hand. 

"Attractive _and_ intelligent," Castiel comments and Dean watches as a smile grows on Castiel's face. 

"If you say so," Dean replies. 

"I do say so! Mechanical engineering is no walk in the park. I'm very impressed." Castiel sounds so sincere but it's hard to believe him. He does though, even just for a few moments.

Dean smiles.

“How are you feeling now?” Castiel asks, a hand migrating to Dean’s thigh. 

“Better than earlier. Don’t think I’m fine just yet. Should probably do that assignment though.”

“I can stay, if you like. I brought my tablet so there's things I can get on with if you don’t want to be alone.” 

Dean thinks about it for a moment. The idea of being on his own right now sounds like it will suck, having Cas here—even just in the background—sounds like a much nicer idea. 

“Yeah, we can hang out,” Dean tells him. 

Dean finishes his assignment as Castiel taps away at his tablet and afterwards he feels a massive weight lifted from him. When he swivels his chair around to announce the completion to find Castiel sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed and staring with what Dean is going to deem the most adorable look of concentration on his face. 

What's more is that Castiel is wearing a pair of dark-rimmed glasses that he's never seen before, giving him some kind of hot librarian look. 

"Oh," Dean breathes. 

Castiel looks up sharply at the noise. "Everything okay?" 

"I like the glasses," Dean tells him, and he's not ready for the playful smirk Castiel gives him as his eyes turn lustful. He can't take it and looks up at the ceiling where hopefully his sudden arousal wanes. 

Dean runs a hand through his hair with a groan, but never finishes the motion when Castiel is off the bed and grabbing his wrist, pinning it behind his head. 

"Is this something you want?" Castiel asks. 

Every brain cell is shouting ‘ _yes’_ back at him, but Dean keeps his eyes squeezed shut. "This isn’t wrong?"

"Two consenting adults isn't wrong, Dean. You're not my employee here, you're not being paid for this time with me." Castiel's voice is right by his ear. "If you don't want this, just tell me. It won't affect you being my model, and if you want me to keep my hands to myself while you're on the job, I can do that too."

"No!" The word comes out of Dean's mouth before he has an explanation. "I want this. All of it. Please." There, he said it. 

"As you wish." The reference and the way Castiel's other hand reaches down to his hip sends shivers through his body. It only escalates when Castiel's lips graze the taut skin of his neck.

They work each other up until they're both coming in their pants, lips locked together even though they’re completely out of breath. 

Dean takes a few minutes to text his roommate, tell him it's safe to come back to the room and then Dean and Cas just lie there, pressed against one another. 

"Call me tomorrow, even if you're feeling good. Promise?" Castiel asks. 

"Promise." 

Begrudgingly, they pull themselves off the bed and stand by the doorway. They haven't got long before Aaron is back. 

Castiel takes Dean's chin in his fingers, holding his head up high for him. "You're amazing, Dean. I'll see you Friday night, if not earlier." 

Despite the post-orgasm make-out earlier, Castiel turns Dean's head a little and a kiss is pressed to his temple. It makes Dean's cheeks flush, but he smiles. 

"See ya, Cas, and thanks for today." 

Castiel goes out of sight in the corridor and while Dean feels a little left behind, he knows the feeling is temporary. 

The silence is filled quickly when Aaron bursts through the door again. 

"Well, tell me everything, lover boy? Who is this _older man_ you're seeing?" 

Dean rolls his eyes but smiles, giving small bits of information about Castiel to Aaron. He grins at his phone part of the way through his explanation, when Castiel texts him to say that he made it home.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the image posted at the end of this chapter goes to MelancholySeraph who prompted this fic in the first place, the poster they made really grabbed me with how beautiful it is! 
> 
> Thanks for staying with me! I'm having a lot of fun with this fic! 
> 
> I also have a few ~~a lot~~ more ideas for what to write once this has finished, including, but not limited to: a werewolf!Dean AU, a rebellious rich kid Cas AU, a prince!Dean/Angel!Cas AU, a cambion!Dean/Nephilim!Cas AU, a school reunion fic and one where Cas' "dad" is a spy and Cas goes missing... so if any of those make you go ooooh, come let me know on my writing Tumblr (linked below) and I can tell you more about them :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is a bit shorter than the others. My plans for this chapter did not... well, go to plan... and I panicked when I told myself I wanted to aim for this to be completed by the time NaNoWriMo comes round and realising November isn't far away 😅
> 
> Any who... here we go! Thank you all again for your inspiring comments! 
> 
> Also quick note: I updated the tags :)

Dean has spent the past few days telling himself this isn’t going to be weird. He turns up at Castiel’s studio just shy of the time they agreed and Becky is there to sign him into the small building. 

“Hey, Dean, you’re here late,” she says with a knowing smile.

Not wanting to show his embarrassment, Dean leans his arms on the desk and looks over at her as she shifts her notebook away from him. Dean can’t make out any of the words on the page, it’s some pink glittery gel pen reflecting in the downlights. 

“What are you writing in your diary there?”

She gives him a sharp look before snapping the book shut. “Just the greatest love story ever told.”

Dean eyes her, but shrugs it off. He’s not all that interested in romance stories anyway. “Well, good luck with it,” he says.

There’s a creak of a door opening behind them and Dean looks up to find Castiel stepping out of the hallway and into the lobby. It’s like deja vu to the day he first turned up, only better. 

He sees Castiel in a different light now. He still has that sense of authority about him, but the way he glances at Dean and smiles, that’s new and Dean likes it a lot. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel rolls up his right sleeve, adjusting it to match the other side. 

“Hey, Cas.”

* * *

The ropes around Dean’s arms, pinning them behind him and causing his chest to be pushed out with his shoulders back, are tight and comfortable. He kneels on one of the podiums with a strip of green silk beneath him. It’s hard on his knees but he knows that Castiel isn’t going to keep him here for long. There’s a harness of rope around his hips, fitting him snugly and wrapping around his balls to prevent him from coming so quickly. It was less for the camera, though Castiel said he would take close ups, and more for Dean's sake; a promise that he'd get off at the end of this. 

Castiel sets the camera back down on the table beside him and Dean tracks him as he comes close. “I want some shots including your beautiful face,” he says as soft hands reach out to him. 

Dean closes his eyes as Castiel moves his head gently, pulling his chin up and moving it so he's facing the camera a little more. 

“Perfect.” Soft lips press against his forehead. 

_ Oh _ . Dean smiles and there’s a click of the shutter. He feels heat tinging his cheeks and hears another click. 

“How do you feel about spanking?” Castiel asks, still clearly behind the camera, looking through the lens, as his voice sounds muffled with concentration. 

Dean pauses at the question, opening his eyes and looking at Castiel, who’s peering over the top of the camera. The question alone has him curious, he's done it before but only because Amara was punishing him for menial things. Here, he hasn't done anything wrong, at least not that he knows of. maybe he should ask to make sure because he's not sure he wants to be punished like that.

Dean sits up, a leg either side of the corner of the podium, now more confident with his nudity in front of Casstiel. 

"Like punishment?" Dean asks. 

Castiel stands up slowly and tilts his head a little, cearly finding Dean a little naive. "It can be fun too. I much prefer it when it's fun. Does it turn you on, or do you find it strictly punishment?"

"I've only  _ experienced _ it as punishment," Dean says but stops to think, trying to remember the situation. As bad as it was looking back, he did find at the time, objectively, it was quite a turn on. It was more the person doing it which was the problem. "But I think it was hot and I guess there's only one way to find out." Dean looks at Castiel with a smile, and castiel smiles back.

"There's this image in my head, my red handprint on your ass, between the harness, just off centre on your right ass cheek." Dean hears a moan in Castiel's voice.

"Come and get it then," Dean teases and he watches as Castiel lights up with glee. It's a good look on him and Dean takes a lot of enjoyment in that alone, even though his ass is about to be set on fire with Castiel's handprint. 

Dean turns as best he can with his arms still behind his back and then lies down on the podium on his front. Castiel stalks towards him, a careful eye on him, both artistic and wary. Warm hands position him, right leg bent up a little exposing his cheek to Castiel. Dean closes his eyes, focusing on the feel of the ropes on his skin, shifting slightly and vibrating as he’s moved. A hand rests on his ass, right where Dean assumes the handprint is going to end up, and pauses. Dean swallows harshly, suddenly kind of nervous about it. What if he doesn’t like it? 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice feels thick in his throat. 

“Do you want me to talk you through it?” Castiel asks and Dean is relieved that Castiel can read him like a book. 

“Yeah.”

A thumb strokes over his skin. “This isn’t a punishment. You’ve been nothing but good for me this evening. I’ve had what I think are some really good shots too and that’s all because you’ve let me tie you up and sat still for me. This is just another part of it - a bit of fun like the rest of it has been. If we try it and you don’t like it, we will stop and we won’t do it again.” Castiel speaks gently, instantly calming him down. 

Dean nods, then presses his forehead into the podium. “Okay.” 

Hands leave his body, but then he feels Castiel by his head. When Dean opens his eyes, Castiel is kneeling in front of him. Castiel runs a hand through Dean’s hair, making Dean shiver, before smoothing it flat again. “Are you ready?” 

Dean nods again. 

“Tell me with words, please.” 

“I’m ready.” Dean gives him a smile as extra proof, and wiggles his ass a little. He’s ready, he really is. With the extra reassurance, he’s looking forward to it and if he didn’t have rope wrapped around his balls, he’s sure he would have been leaking precum now. 

Castiel leaves his vision and Dean braces himself. 

“Relax.” 

The simple command is easy to obey. Dean takes a deep breath, relaxing his muscles, even his cock gives a healthy twitch which Dean groans at. 

There’s no further warning and the first hit comes fast and hot. Dean jolts, his entire body tensing up involuntarily, and he shouts. The second hit comes just as quick, barely any time to recover and Dean’s cock bounces in the gap between the podium and his stomach, just a fraction away from enough stimulation. His ass hurts, aching and firey, but it’s the best feeling. 

“One more, Dean.” 

Dean wimpers, and the sound turns into a yelp as the same spot is hit again. He’s aroused beyond belief, and he needs to come but the rope around his balls is preventing it just enough to make it difficult. Dean hears the shutter of the camera several times as he breathes through the stinging.

“You’re doing perfect, Dean,” Castiel reassures. 

The podium below his cock is beginning to look inviting and he ruts against it haphazardly, hips stuttering as he tries to gain some semblance of friction to get himself off. Castiel is right there and he could easily ask but he’s busy taking photographs of him. 

The sound of the shutter stops, finally and then Castiel perches on the corner of the podium behind Dean. He touches the stinging handprint, massaging it but it only increases the pleasure. The harness around him is loosened, letting his balls free and he squirms, desperate to get off. Heat is pooling in his stomach like lava ready to erupt from a volcano. 

“Please, Cas, please.” 

One of Cas’ hands is on his cock, stroking it a handful of times before leaving him bereft once more. It’s maddening and Dean’s on the verge of yelling at Castiel to get him off already when the same hand, slick with his precum, rests over his hole. One now-lubricated finger rubs around his rim before slipping in. 

Dean lets out a low moan, and then a whimper as Castiel’s thumb puts pressure on his perineum. Only Cas makes it worse when he uses his free hand to massage the sting from his ass. He shouts and comes, looking down at his rock hard, twitching cock spurting translucent come over the dark green silk cloth beneath him. A few stray tears of frustration and relief spring from his eyes, dripping down his face. 

He breathes heavily for several moments as he comes down from the peak of his orgasm. Castiel carefully unbinds his arms, rubbing out the ache there and then aiding him in sitting up and then pulling him into his arms. 

“You did amazing,” Castiel praises and Dean’s face, already warmed from the exertion of the orgasm, heats more. “Absolutely amazing. Let’s get you some water and get you cleaned up.” 

Dean revels under the tender hands of Castiel for the rest of the evening until he has to go back to his dorm to sleep. 

They’re standing in the parking lot, Castiel leaning against his car when he says, “If you’re free tomorrow morning, I need to go down to the gallery to give Balthazar my  originals  so he can get them printed for the exhibition next week, would you like to come with me? I’ll show you around the exhibition area and maybe we can go for lunch?”

This feels suspiciously like he’s being asked on a date, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Dean would actually like nothing better. “That would be great,” he says. 

Castiel pushes off the Lincoln and ends up close to Dean. This time, though, Dean takes the initiative and kisses Castiel. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually got my butt in gear and wrote this chapter in a few days this time (helped by the fact we couldn't go on ship for a few days at work so I had some time to write)! Thanks for your kind responses on the last chapter, they really motivated me.
> 
> I hope you all like this chapter! 
> 
> Beta'd by fangirlingtodeath513 ♥

Charlie’s hands rest on Dean’s shoulders as she attempts to stare her pre-coffee confidence into him about his  _ date _ with Castiel. 

“I kissed him, Charlie,” Dean tells her as if it was such an alien thing to have happened. It’s not as if they hadn’t already kissed before then - it was just the first time Dean decided to do it himself and that was  _ a big thing _ apparently. 

“Yes, you did, and now you need to put that henley on and those jeans because I am very much not into how much skin I can see right now,” Charlie says with scorn, keeping her eyes focussed on Dean’s face. “I know you asked me to come and help you out but I was not prepared for you to be in  _ pie  _ boxers.” 

Dean pulls his pants on and slips on his khaki henley. He’s comfortable. Castiel had assured him via text that he didn’t need to wear anything fancy, just whatever he likes. Charlie had pulled this out for him, so he didn’t turn up looking the same as he does when he goes for a shooting session. 

“I’m ready.” He keeps his voice quiet. Aaron sleeps like the dead but he feels like he owes him from when he walked in on him and Cas sleeping. If his head had been in a better place, he probably would have remembered to warn him. 

“Yes you are! Now gimme that coffee before I murder you. Go meet your boyfriend.”

_ Boyfriend.  _ Huh. “He’s not my… um - okay, sure. Thank you. I owe you one.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

Charlie downs the cup of coffee and even though Dean had a cup before Charlie even got there at ass o’clock - 9am - he kinda wanted the second to settle his nerves. 

He doesn’t even know what he’s nervous about, it’s just Cas. 

Breaking from Charlie outside his dorm building, as she goes back to her own to crawl back into bed no doubt, Dean slides into his car, starts the engine, and follows his internal satnav and Cas’ instructions to the gallery. 

The roads are quiet, all the sensible people are still home, asleep in their bed, but Dean’s out here, pulling into the parking lot of a modern-looking building. Zephyr is written in blocky lettering across the door arch and Dean spots Castiel’s Lincoln across the way. Dean smiles. 

He brushes down his front, even though there are no wrinkles in the front of his shirt, and steps out of the car. The front of the gallery is calmly lit even as the sun rises and Dean makes his way to the entrance. 

“Dean!” The call of his name catches his attention and Dean turns to find Castiel in his billowy trenchcoat and a pair of dark wash jeans and a shirt similar to his own but darker. 

Castiel holds out a large takeaway cup and Dean takes it from him and smells the coffee inside. “Oh my god you’re a lifesaver,” Dean says, taking a slurp and finding it the optimal temperature. He smiles up at Castiel and then kisses him and watches as Castiel blushes. 

“I think I’m going to have to buy you more cups of coffee.”

Dean flushes himself. “I’d kiss you any time - you don’t  _ have  _ to buy me coffee. It is a bonus though.”

“Come on, Balthazar is the least patient man in the universe.” 

“Is that why we’re here at the crack of dawn?”

Castiel rolls his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back to the sky. "Yes." 

Castiel opens the glass door for him, allowing him to go through first and Dean sips his coffee as he's quietly directed through the corridor. 

"I will warn you-" 

Dean really wishes Castiel had time to finish that sentence because he is very not ready for the enthusiasm that comes around the corner to greet them.

"Cassie, darling!" the man Dean assumes to be Balthazar shouts. Dean winces internally and watches as the blond man takes Castiel’s arms and then plants a kiss on each cheek. 

Despite the innocence of the french greeting, Dean hates that it makes him feel the itch in his stomach to grab Castiel's hand. He never thought himself of the jealous type - never particularly experienced it before, or maybe just never liked someone enough to feel the need to experience it. 

Castiel manages to pull away from Balthazar and turns to Dean. 

"Balthazar, this is Dean. He's my model for this series." The way Castiel hesitated on the word  _ model _ seems to brighten Balthazar's obvious urge for mischief. 

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Playing with your toys I see," he says and it makes Dean's insides sour. 

Dean doesn't know what to say, this is exactly what he has been afraid of. 

"Balthazar!" Castiel chastises. "How dare you speak of Dean like that. Jealousy does not become you." 

"Cassie, come on," Balthazar tries, but Castiel isn't having any of it. He digs in his coat pocket and pulls out a slightly crumpled envelope. "Go and do your job and leave my relationships out of it." The envelope is slapped into Balthazar's waiting palm and then Castiel heads off down the corridor. 

Dean looks up at Balthazar and the man looks a little sheepish. He doesn't say anything and Dean just turns to follow Castiel down the corridor. 

Dean finds him leaning against a wall, a dark look clouding his features. It certainly doesn't suit what he normally sees of him. Dean slips a hand down Castiel's arm and links his fingers with Castiel's. 

"Hey?" Dean says quietly. "Show me around?" 

Castiel looks up slowly and Dean can see the gears turning in his head. "You know I don't think if you—" 

Dean cuts him off, a steady hand on his chest. "I know." 

Castiel nods once but Dean can tell he's not convinced. He gets the feeling Castiel has a host of confidence when he's a dominant, but regular Cas —  _ this _ Cas — is just a normal, dorky guy.

There's no sign of Balthazar anywhere in the large gallery. There are small alcoves and larger rooms and exhibits and then finally, Castiel tugs Dean towards a tall archway. Just inside is a pop-up poster stand with a picture of Castiel in the corner alongside some information about the  _ well renowned local photographer _ . 

"You're really a big thing, aren't you?" Dean comments, leaning into Castiel. 

"My work is unusual, it tends to make people look, even those who don't quite understand." 

"Pfft," Dean snorts. "Your work is just hot as balls and you turn heads. Honestly, I think it's great."

A smile, genuine and bright. "I hope so, because these walls here, they'll be for you. Every single one of them. I've never had a single subject before so this one is new to me too." 

When Dean scans the room he picks up on the photographs already displayed. Some are larger than others, some men, some women, but mostly they're all different people. Nearly every one of the people are tied up in one way or another and the poses they're in show to be more sensual than sexual, but arousing nonetheless - at least to Dean. 

In one corner there's a couple of black and white photographs showing the same man suspended from something out of shot. The ropes are tight around his body, secure and trusting and the man's face is relaxed. In the one where he's fully naked, it's clear the man is aroused. Dean looks at it for a long time, realising that this is where he's going to be next week, pasted up on these walls for others to see. 

"What do you think?" Castiel asks, startling Dean out of his head. 

"You really know how to use a camera." 

"I meant about you being the subject of these photographs next week," Castiel clarifies. 

"Oh… yeah. I'm fine with it. New adventure or something like that.” 

"Are you a fan of adventures?” Castiel croons and his hand slips out of Dean’s hand around the back of his waist. 

Dean shivers,  _ there’s  _ the Castiel he’s familiar with. Dean’s coffee cup nearly slips from his fingers. 

“Yeah, adventures.” Words are failing him, so Dean turns in Castiel’s arm towards him so they’re face to face. 

“Not here, Dean,” Castiel says as Dean tries to urge him on a little more, pressing his crotch into Castiel’s hip. 

“‘Cause of Balthazar?” Dean asks with curiosity.

Castiel’s lips draw closer to Dean’s ear. “Not at all, you just prefer us to be alone, is all. I don’t want to break that trust, even if you feel ready to try it. We’ll find a safe space first when you’re ready.” 

Dean recalls the forms they both filled in at the beginning and yeah - aside from taking photos and having them on display - he’s no exhibitionist. He was simply getting caught up in the moment of having Castiel  _ right there _ touching him after Balthazar called him a toy to be played with.

“No, I’m okay,” Dean tells him and Castiel chuckles lowly like he knew all along it wasn’t what Dean was after. 

“Then shall we leave this place and go find breakfast?” Castiel shakes his now empty coffee cup, only the dregs splashing around inside. “I’m out of coffee and that’s never a good thing.” 

Dean laughs, downing the last swallows of now-cold coffee and shaking his own cup. “Hell yes, breakfast!” He takes one last look around the gallery; it’s still not hit him yet that all of the space inside the exhibition alcove is going to be him. He’s seen plenty of the raw photographs - and the bad ones too - but he can’t imagine the work Castiel puts into the afterwards to show the level of artistry displayed in the room. 

It excites him that just next week he could be back here with Castiel for the first opening of the new exhibition. 

* * *

The cafe is thankfully busy, giving Dean and Castiel a little privacy to talk as they scarf down a mountain of pancakes with syrup and bacon between them. Castiel reaches his free hand across the table and lays it over Dean’s forearm. It’s warm from being wrapped around the coffee mug.

“I’m sorry about what Balthazar said,” Castiel says quietly beneath the bustle of the other customers. 

Dean shrugs the apology off, even though he knows that the words are still stinging against his emotions. 

“A toy or plaything is the last thing you are to me,” Castiel continues. “Maybe… partner? Boyfriend? Beau or better half?”

“Slow down there before you ask me to marry you,” Dean interjects, face flushed. He likes boyfriend, that’s good for now. They’ve known each other all of five weeks and in that time they’ve seen each other for a few hours at most. Castiel flushes too and he stares at his forked pancake for a little too long. “You gonna eat that, sweetheart?” he teases and the pet name feels foreign on his tongue. 

“Significant  _ annoyance _ ,” Castiel growls, but then his face lights up in a bright smile. The pancake on his fork is dripping with syrup and it turns towards Dean. “Open up.” 

Dean eats it off Castiel’s fork, and somehow it tastes all the better for it. He moans quietly, unheard of to anyone except Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I super appreciate it! We're winding down to the last couple of chapters now ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Welcome to the next chapter, this is a loooong one! :D I hope you enjoy! We're going into national lockdown again from Thursday, and it's NaNoWriMo, so hopefully more time to write :D
> 
> Next chapter will be the last so all that I break will be fixed ^_^
> 
> beta'd by fangirlingtodeath513

Dean doesn’t go to the opening night of Castiel’s exhibition, the first reason being the huge assignment that’s due before winter break and he only has a couple of weeks to finish it off. Then there’s the upcoming exams so he’s neck deep in past papers, textbooks and his own notes. He’s barely even seen Castiel all week despite the growing itch to do so. However, if he wants to get the grades he wants and to carry on next term, he needs to be thinking about gears and shafts… and the uses of lubricants. He sinks his head into his hands and groans. 

Dean’s phone buzzes on his bed and, in desperate need of a break, gets up from his chair and lands ungracefully on his bed. 

> **Cas | 7:04pm |** It’s busy 😣 so far I’ve heard good whisperings :) 

He smiles, rolling onto his back and holding his phone above him.

> **Dean | 7:05pm |** Great!

A picture message comes through, showing Dean a fairly crowded room and he can just about see the photographs on the wall and people are _looking_ at them. That’s the other reason Dean didn’t go - he was afraid of what people would think of him more than the photographs. Castiel had assured him several times that the people going to the opening night _wanted_ to see the work of Castiel Novak and were well aware of what they would be seeing. Still, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to be the live person in the photographs at the opening. 

Castiel understood, of course he did, and simply promised Dean he would keep him updated since he wouldn’t be there. Dean much prefers the idea of receiving pictures than showing his face in a crowd that’s also seeing his dick. 

> **Dean | 7:08pm |** good luck, I’m sure they love you. Sorry I couldn’t be there.

In the pause between the messages, Dean can practically feel the stare Castiel gives. 

> **Cas | 7:09pm |** I know you would have been if you wanted to :) I’ll see you tomorrow instead? ARTnews magazine requested some suspension shots as they liked the last ones so much. That new rope I was talking about the other day is ready for collection so we can use that. 

Dean breathes out a long breath. He’s been looking forward to it all week. Ever since he saw the photographs of Castiel’s last model, he asked about suspension and Castiel didn’t deny him. 

> **Dean | 7:11pm |** Gonna be great. I’m feeling the need for it, is that weird? I’ve been buried in college work all week and I need to look at something other than this wall.
> 
> **Cas | 7:13pm |** I’m more than happy to whisk you away for a while. Unfortunately people here need to talk to me. See you tomorrow :) 

Dean smiles back at the emoticon before rolling his eyes at himself and crawling back to his desk. He has at least another three hours of mathematics ahead of him.

* * *

Dean wakes the next day feeling drained. It’s less from lack of sleep, though it certainly doesn’t help, and more to do with being trapped in this room for a week trying to study. He could have gone to the coffee shop but he’s found it too distracting lately, and the campus library had a leaking roof so it has been closed for two weeks. Worst timing in the world. 

The wall in front of his desk isn’t even blank anymore, it’s filled with more notes, formulae and diagrams he needs to learn for his exams. He won’t be going to Cas’ studio for another few hours, just after lunch they had agreed, so Dean parks himself on his desk chair once again and throws himself into studying. He only breaks when Aaron comes back from a lecture and throws a protein bar at him. They chat for a few minutes before they sit back at their own desks, both with fresh cups of coffee and study again. 

Dean’s phone rings in alarm for lunch time, and by that point most of the information he’s reading isn’t sinking in and he’s feeling more stressed than he has all week. He slams the heavy textbook closed with a grunt. 

“Fuck!” Aaron exclaims behind him, startled from the sudden noise.

"Sorry, buddy," Dean says with a wince. It's not often they make too much noise to bother each other. 

"You owe me a new mechanical pencil, you fucker." 

Dean laughs and looks through his drawer for his spare one, tossing it across the room. "Catch." 

"Thanks, man." 

Dean grabs his towel and heads into the showers to clean up a little and once dressed, he heads to the lunch hall to grab some food. While in line, the nerves for this afternoon with Castiel kick in and he feels less hungry, but the view of today's cheeseburgers quickly abates that and he picks one up alongside fries and a pudding cup. 

> **Dean | 12:37pm |** Do I need to bring anything today?

Dean sets his phone next to his tray as he sits down in one of the quieter corners. He eats quickly and is just about to start his pudding cup when his phone buzzes. 

> **Cas| 12:48pm |** just your beautiful self :) 
> 
> **Cas | 12:48pm |** do you want to see it? 

_It_? Dean frowns for a moment not sure what Castiel is referring to. 

> **Cas | 12:49pm |** the rope that is 

Dean chuckles as he takes a spoon of pudding and texts back an enthusiastic reply. 

A buzz comes back and Dean nearly chokes on his pudding as the picture loads. In Castiel's hand is what looks to be a custom-made rope. It’s a deep forest green, laced with gold flecks which have caught in the flash. Beneath the rope, though, is something that makes Dean’s cheeks flush right there at the dinner table. A pair of what look to be lacy panties.

Dean’s fingers almost shake with a sudden jolt of arousal and excitement.

> **Dean | 12:52pm |** are those????
> 
> **Cas | 12:52pm |** yes ;) 
> 
> **Dean | 12:53pm |** on my way

Dean swallows harshly, scoops up the rest of his pudding, and shovels it into his mouth before stacking his tray to be cleaned. He’s never moved so fast back to his dorm to brush his teeth, and douse himself in deodorant before he leaves again with a brief goodbye to Aaron who barely raises a hand in response. 

The short journey from campus to Castiel’s studio is suddenly the longest drive Dean has ever taken, or so it feels like. He’s not even parked straight when he swings into the parking lot, nor does his name and signature look like his own when he signs in. 

He’s glad he went for the extra deodorant, however, as he pants at the top of the stairs, knuckles poised to knock when Castiel opens the door. 

Castiel grins and looks at his watch. “Remind me to send you a photo like that again if I have an emergency and I need you here quickly.” 

Dean laughs nervously but his insides are buzzing like excitement on caffeine. “We have like thirty minutes before anything _official_ starts… are you gonna show me your new things?” Dean asks, enjoying the slip between the boundaries.

Castiel beckons Dean towards him with a lustful gaze. 

Dean goes willingly. He ends up sitting on a podium, but not in front of the camera, just by the storage area. 

"Close your eyes and hold your hands out," Castiel requests and Dean follows. 

With his eyes closed, Dean can feel his heart in his head, beating erratically, all until he feels soft material in his hands and his heart comes to a stuttering halt. 

Oh. Cautiously, Dean rubs his thumb over the material, its soft, lacy and everything he imagined when Castiel sent him the photo. 

"Open your eyes." 

Dean opens them to the view of the black lace panties with a solid silk trim. They're mostly see-through, and not going to hide anything once they're on. Already Dean's dick is paying attention inside his boxers. 

"Do you like them? I wasn't sure if they were something… I don't know." 

Dean can hear Castiel's nervousness. It isn't something he's seen a lot of but he knows Castiel can't be in dom mode all the time. 

"I love them. Can I try them on?" Dean looks up at Castiel expectantly. 

"Now? Of course." Castiel smiles warmly and then his pupils dilate with lustful thoughts. "Oh, the things I would do to you in those." 

"Alright, turn around then.”

“Turn around?” Castiel queries, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, _turn around_ ,” Dean insists. 

Castiel rolls his eyes but turns. Immediately, Dean stands and shuffles his jeans down his legs, followed by his boxers and socks and then pulls off his shirt too so he’s naked. He strokes over the panties one last time before slipping them over his legs. This isn’t the first time he’s worn panties; this time at least they’re a classy black lace, rather than bright pink satin. He runs his thumbs over the seams and silk waistband, making sure his dick is tucked in nicely and straightens up. 

Dean clears his throat. “You can look.” 

When Castiel turns back towards him it looks like he almost melts on the spot and Dean can’t help but smirk at the fact that _he_ did that to him. Castiel may have purchased the underwear, but Dean’s the one wearing it and making Castiel weak at the knees. 

“Oh Dean,” Castiel growls his name out and steps forward several paces until he’s inches away from him. “ _Oh,_ beautiful.” 

“Cas…” Dean whispers and then Castiel runs the back of his index knuckles down his chest, starting between his nipples. It feels cold, but it only heightens the sensation. The single digit slides down to his stomach, over his navel and then against the waistband. It doesn’t stop there and Castiel moves down to where the silk crotch is covering his dick. 

Dean feels the tingles as the arousal courses through his body. He bites back a whimper, but he can’t hold it in when Castiel’s finger turns into a hand and it slides around his hip so tantalisingly slow and takes hold of his lace-covered ass cheek. Castiel squeezes and Dean groans. 

“Can I tie you up, just a little, please?”

Dean nods enthusiastically and the true nature of Cas’ experience with rope gets to shine as a waist harness is looped around him faster than he’s seen before - this time focussed on getting the rope on Dean rather than focussing on the sensations. Even so, Dean is mostly hard, trapped in the panties, by the time Castiel has finished. 

“You can take a photo if you like,” Dean breathes. “Just for personal though, no exhibitions or magazines… just you.” 

Castiel nods brightly, and instead of going straight for his professional camera, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and takes a couple of snaps. No doubt they’ll look amazing anyway, but Dean is grateful that they’re on Castiel’s phone and not suitable for printing. The idea that Cas might later look at the photos and maybe masturbate to them makes Dean happy. 

“I hate to do it, but those panties might be ruined in the next half an hour.”

“Does that mean I get to come?” 

“If you’re good for me,” Castiel croons and now Dean goes weak at the knees. 

“I’ll be good.” 

Castiel asks him to be still and that’s the only order he gives. Dean thinks it’s easy enough, but that’s only until Castiel gets out the lube and what Dean knows is a prostate massager. 

“I’ll be good,” Dean says again, a personal mantra because he wants to come under Castiel’s power this afternoon so fucking much.

“Oh, you will,” Castiel encourages as he presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead before he starts. 

Castiel’s hands touch every single inch of him, it seems, before the snap of the lube cap sounds like it echoes through the studio. Dean watches, slack jawed and relaxed, as Castiel coats a couple of fingers on his right hand in lube but uses his left to then slide his hand into Dean’s new panties and pull them away from his skin. 

Lubricated fingers then slide down his crack and settle over his hole, massaging lightly before sinking in. Dean whines but remains standing up straight. Castiel touches and presses and holds onto Dean with his other hand so they’re chest to chest. 

Castiel’s finger slips in and Dean gasps. It moves, in and out and before long another joins it, scissoring and stretching him open. 

“Hmm, good,” Castiel whispers and pulls his fingers out. Even then Dean feels bare, missing the fingers inside him already. Dean holds back his whine and closes his eyes as Castiel steps back. In the next moment, Dean feels something against his lips. “Open up.” 

When Dean opens his eyes, along with his mouth, he can see the black prostate massager poised in front of his face. It slips between his lips and Dean waits for Castiel’s next instruction before doing anything, after all, he promised to be good. 

“Okay, suck. I want it nice and wet.” 

Dean gets all the saliva he can muster and sucks away at the toy in his mouth. The taste of silicon lingers on his tongue and he subtly turns his nose up at it. Thankfully, the toy is removed from his mouth, and he smacks his lips a few times. 

As the toy hovers over his hole, moments from being pressed in, Castiel’s lips press against Dean’s and they’re locked into a passionate kiss that almost lets Dean forget about the toy waiting to breach him. When it does, it’s a surprise, and it presses against his prostate and sends electricity coursing through his veins, any sound is absorbed by Castiel’s kisses, his tongue in his mouth. 

The massager buzzes to life and Dean’s knees buckle underneath him, he moves his feet to catch himself, despite the fact he wasn’t meant to move, and Castiel has a strong hold of him. He hears Castiel tut and he knows he’s broken their rules. 

“Do you know what I do to bad boys, Dean?” Castiel whispers harshly in his ear. 

Dean doesn’t say a word but shakes his head quickly. For a moment, he doesn’t think Castiel is going to tell him, but then he feels the backs of Castiel’s fingers brushing over the silky front of his panties. 

“I don’t let them come.” 

“No…” The word slips out before Dean can stop it. He’s not going to be some needy sub in front of Castiel - he’s good, he knows he can be. Dean remembers then that he’s safe here with Castiel, he can be whoever he wants and he knows Castiel won’t judge him for it. “Please.” 

“Oh… do you want to beg for it? I’ll let that pretty mouth beg for anything, just this once. I’ll give you another chance to be good.” Another chance? Dean sags in relief. “I’ll make you work for it, though.”

“Please.” Castiel kisses him, swallowing up his words. “Please.” More kisses and his words are muffled. Dean whines. Castiel did warn him he was going to work for it.

“I can’t hear you,” Castiel says and then nibbles at his jaw. 

Dean takes his chance, gripping hold of Castiel’s hips as Dean acquires what he thinks will end up as a hickey on the side of his neck. “I want to come! Please!” 

“Oh… there we go, hmm, you sound beautiful. Tell me one more time.” 

Castiel reaches around the back of him, fingers kneading into the flesh of his ass and clicking the button to heighten the vibrations on his prostate. So far it has been faint and constant, and now it’s loud, incessant and he feels like he’s going to come on the spot. 

“Please, sir, I want to come!” 

“I guess so,” Castiel says with a huff, but the ferocious kiss to his lips, the tight squeeze of his ass cheek and the way he presses the prostate massager further into Dean all prove that it’s a show. Castiel is safe, they can be who they need to be. 

Dean’s dick is as hard as a rock, straining against the panties, and he can feel the fabric against it, only serving to make him harder as Castiel is putting more vibrations on his prostate and is touching him and kissing him and fuck, just breathing. “Cas…” 

“Come for me, Dean.” 

There’s barely a second delay, and the whine that escapes Dean’s throat as he comes turns into a loud moan. His knees buckle again with exhaustion and completion, but Castiel has hold of him, removing the toy and tossing it to one side. 

“Good boy, so good. Well done, you’re okay.” Castiel takes them down to the podium, letting them both sit side by side. Castiel’s arm comes around Dean’s shoulders and the other begins to untie the simple harness around his waist and thighs. It comes away without much movement needed from Dean and he closes his eyes for a couple of moments, completely worn out. 

When Dean decides to open them again, he turns his eyes to Castiel, who’s smiling at him gently. “Hey,” Dean says with a croak in his voice.

“Hello.” Castiel rubs Dean’s chest lightly. It feels nice, calming and soothing after such intensity. “Are you alright?” 

Dean nods. “Yeah, I’m… holy shit, yeah.” 

Castiel chuckles a little. “Do you think you can move? We’ll go over to the couch and rest for a little bit. Get some food and water in you before we do anything else.”

“Do you have any of them lemon… lemon things?” 

“Lemonades? Of course.” 

Dean smiles and lets Castiel help him up. The couch sounds so good.

* * *

A few cookies, a glass of water and a power nap with Castiel stroking his hair until he fell asleep was all Dean needed to feel like he was back up and running. He looks at the time and finds that he’s been here for an hour already, they’d overrun on their fun times together, but tells himself it wasn’t wasted since they both enjoyed themselves. Castiel swiftly shut him up before he can apologise for running over the half hour they had intended on taking. 

Now, after Castiel runs through a couple of extra rules he has for suspension, Dean leans in to Castiel to kiss him. It’s so much softer than before, this time just something to prove he’s okay, that he’s willing, because he knows Castiel is concerned. Dean is sad to be rid of the panties, especially as he knows he won’t go home with them. Castiel offered to wash them for him, so they didn’t get seen at Dean’s campus laundromat and Dean realised that was definitely the best plan ahead. 

“I need you to lie on the floor on your front,” Castiel tells him, stroking a hand down his back soothingly, and helping him get comfortable. 

There’s a couple of thick gym mats below a pole that’s suspended and while they’re not the most comfortable, Dean knows it probably won’t be long before he’s being cradled by ropes in the air.

“I’m going to put a blindfold on you, just while I get you tied up, I’ll remove it before I suspend you fully and take any photographs. I want you to focus on the sensations and my voice. I need you to listen to me, okay?” 

“I know, Cas. I’m good.”

“I know you are,” Castiel tells him, and kisses his crown as a piece of fabric is tied around his eyes.

With his sight gone, Dean listens out for Castiel, awaits the feel of the rope around his skin. Castiel starts with his arms, folding them together behind his back. The sound of chains comes next, as Dean assumes the bar above him is lowered. 

“The bar is made from metal, so it’s going to be cold, it’ll warm up quickly though.” The warning doesn’t feel enough as what feels like ice cold hits the middle of his back and the crest of his ass. 

He gasps and writhes, instinctively trying to move away but Castiel soothes him with his deep, calming voice. Loops of rope go around his chest, vibrations sizzling through him. He breathes slow and deep, letting Castiel work around him. 

Every now and then is the sound of the metal chains and it makes him tingle to remember the photographs he saw in the gallery the other week. They had been stunning and Dean can only hope that he looks just as good when he’s up there. He imagines the later feelings as rope cinches tight around his legs. 

It feels like a long time before Castiel goes around each section of rope around his body, tucking two fingers underneath to make sure everything is perfect and how he needs it, and by that point Dean already feels like he’s floating. His eyes are open behind the blindfold, blinking slowly against the white he can see. His jaw is slack and his dick is twitching with interest. 

Suddenly the ropes go taut around him, he’s not suspended yet, but he’s about to be and excitement runs through him. 

He hears Castiel get down in front of him, and feels as the blindfold is removed. 

“Hey there beautiful, are you ready?” Castiel asks gently, Dean’s head cradled in his hand. 

“I’m ready.”

“Just a few inches to start.” 

Dean nods and Castiel moves away from his line of sight. The metal chains sound loud against his weight but his body doesn’t move an inch within the bonds. It disrupts his subspace a little but as soon as he knows he’s safe and Castiel approves, he slips back again. 

His cock hangs free between his legs, just touching the mat before it isn’t and he’s hoisted higher. In any other circumstance, he would be freaked out over the distance to the floor but Castiel is looking out for him, and his subspace keeps his mind off it. 

Warm hands trail down his body, followed by a peppering of kisses down his sides. He must be at the perfect height for Castiel, he thinks and it makes him smile. 

“How does that feel?” 

Dean sighs happily. “I like it. Feels good. Like… like…”

“Flying?” Castiel suggests and Dean nods. That’s exactly it. He feels like he’s flying, weightless, careless, perfect. 

"Yeah. Never liked flying but this…" Dean takes a deep breath, letting it out on a cleansing sigh. "I wanna stay like this forever." 

"Am I alright to take some photos?" 

Castiel's voice seems far away, but he knows he's still close, his hands still touching him. 

"Yeah." 

"Thank you for answering me." There's a kiss to his cheek, then Dean jolts in his bindings as Castiel tweaks his left nipple followed by his right, but all it does is send him higher. 

Somewhere in the distance he hears the shutter of Castiel's camera several times and then silence.

Dean assumes, with his eyes closed, that Castiel is just fiddling with the settings on the camera before going again, or just admiring what's in front of him. But then the silence feels _off_. Something isn't right.

"Mick. Get out." 

Dean's eyes fly open at the sound of Cas saying someone else's name in such a dangerous tone. He turns his head, and already his air of subspace has crash landed and exploded on the hard ground. His fight or flight instinct kicks in and he squirms in the ropes. 

"Castiel, come on, mate," The man says, a faint slur to his voice. 

“Mick, out. I told you never to come back," Castiel yells and Dean looks around finally to see the man standing in the doorway, wearing a rumpled suit. His face looks familiar, and it takes a moment to recall his time at the gallery while the old exhibition was still up. The man in suspension. That's him. 

Subspace shattered and no way out of his bonds, Dean panics. "No. No! Cas…" 

"Mick, fuck. Don't fucking move." Castiel comes towards him and Dean wriggles more. This was supposed to be a safe space where no one would see them. "Dean," Castiel whispers to him, stroking his arm as he lowers the bar back down to the ground. "It's okay, you're okay."

"No." It's all Dean can manage. He wants out, he _needs_ out. He wants to escape this place and go back to his dorm where he can hide under his covers for the rest of his life. 

"I know." Castiel sounds upset, and the ropes fall away from his body quickly and he realises why when he feels the back of a knife against his skins cutting the last pieces of them away. 

Dean stumbles to his feet as soon as he's able, shaking Castiel's helping hands from him and finding his clothes. He shoves them on, shirt on backwards but the rest of it somewhat successful. 

All the while Castiel is shouting at this Mick and he catches Mick getting pinned to the wall. Dean takes his chance and leaves, ignoring the calls from Castiel behind him. 

He storms past Becky on reception, ignoring her too and breathes in a breath of air as he gets outside. There's a thick lump in his throat, and he knows there's tears waiting to fall out of him but he holds it back, just a little longer. 

His car makes him feel welcome, but he doesn't even flinch when he slams the door shut, rattling the lost lego in the vents. The engine over revs but he still doesn't care as he tears away from the studio with one last glance in the rearview mirror. 

He feels like shit. He feels too much and not enough as his previously forbidden sobs wrack his body as he attempts to drive back to his dorm. Maybe he made a mistake, but he's too blinded by what just happened that he doesn't care. 

His phone rings in his back pocket. It rings again and again until he switches it off as he parks again. 

His dorm room is a welcome sight. Empty hallways and Aaron isn't back either. He strips out of his clothes, replacing them with a pair of boxers and yesterday's shirt and tucks himself under the covers. _This_ is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to fix it! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are: the last official chapter! I say that because I have ideas for two timestamps :P One a smutty xmas eve evening with Dean tied up like a pretty present and the other about the suspension shoot photos. :) 
> 
> I would like to say another massive thank you to MelancholySeraph for the original prompt, I have enjoyed writing every word of this and it wouldn't be here without that prompt, so thank you so much! ♥♥
> 
> Also to fangirlingtodeath513 for being an amazing beta for the majority of the fic, you've been a lifesaver (wordsavior? typo saviour?) :D ♥
> 
> Please enjoy!!

* * *

The weather turns as foul as Dean's mood over the next few days. It rains, and it doesn't stop and then the rain turns to icy sleet. Dean has several extra layers on sitting at his desk.

As soon as he'd slept the afternoon away, Dean got up the next morning and dove right back into studying like nothing had happened. He doesn't think about it, every time he does another dark cloud joins the ones already hovering over his head that he just can't shake off. This feels ten times worse than it did the first time it happened and he doesn't trust Castiel enough to talk to him, though he knows he should.

The quiet and the extra studying gets him through his end of term exams, but he's convinced himself he's done badly despite all of it. 

He still hasn't responded to the litany of text messages he has, nor the voicemails, even as he packs up his bags for the trip home for the holidays. Home for Dean is with his Uncle Bobby up in Sioux Falls,  his brother will be there too and he's bringing his girlfriend home. Dean tries to feel excited about it, but there's no spark there, just an empty blank box. 

Dean sighs, dumping a couple of textbooks on top of his clothing before zipping up the suitcase. He gives his uncle a heads up that he's on his way up, saying he'll be around six hours with breaks. Bobby tells him to drive safe and that Sam had already arrived with his girlfriend. 

Sitting in the Impala brings him a different comfort. He switches on some Led Zeppelin before beginning his journey. 

He has six hours on his own to think. Dean hates it. Maybe he overreacted. Maybe he didn't and this feeling is something else, something he needs help from Cas to figure out. Cas, however, had someone else come to the studio while they were shooting. Maybe it was both their faults for not locking the door behind them when they got distracted by kissing. 

All of the maybes and  none of the answers. 

One last maybe: maybe Dean should talk to Castiel. 

Dean's foot hits the gas and he pushes the Impala down the highways. He stops eventually, grabbing a coffee and, when he spots a whole fresh apple pie on the shelf,  he adds it to his pile. 

It's only when he gets back in the car that he realises he's not that hungry for pie, despite it staring at him from the passenger seat. 

The rest of the journey to his Uncle's house goes smoothly and finally the sound of the gravel under Baby welcomes him home. It's been a few short months since he left here in the first place but he misses home all the same. 

"Hey kid," Bobby greets him, wheeling out of the front door and onto the porch. Dean hauls his duffel onto his shoulder and grabs the food he bought before following Bobby into the house. 

"Hey," Dean mumbles, leaning down and pulling Bobby into an awkward one-armed hug. 

"You good? Sound a bit off." Bobby gives him a curious look but Dean shakes his head. 

"I'm fine," Dean grouses. He doesn't want to talk about it. 

"A Winchester fine? Or actually fine, 'cause you ain't fooling me," he asks. Dean glares at him then walks past and up the stairs. It's a dick move as Bobby can't follow him up. He hears Bobby sigh behind him as he reaches the top. "At least say hello to your brother, he's been at my ears for hours." 

Dean closes the door to his bedroom at those words and turns his attention to his bed. His duffel lands in the middle of the room somewhere and he face plants the sheets, the cold hitting him and sinking into him. 

He doesn't know when he falls asleep but there's a knock at the door that wakes him up. 

"Dean? Bobby wants to know if you're coming down for dinner," Sam relays and cracks open the door.

Dean yawns and his back cracks as he sits up. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." 

He follows Sam back down the stairs and finds the table set and a large bowl of macaroni cheese. Also at the table is, who Dean assumes to be, Sam's girlfriend. 

"You must be Dean," she says. Dean vaguely remembers that Sammy had said she is deaf. 

He replies with a greeting, one of the few signs he knows, and she smiles. They all tuck into dinner, and Bobby tries to get conversation from Dean but his answers are short.

“Did something happen at college?” Sam asks. Dean shoots him a warning look. “Dude, come on, it’s Christmas - I haven’t seen you in months.” 

“Nothing happened. Just tired.” Dean pushes his chair back from the table. “I’m going to bed.”

Sam frowns at him and looks like he’s ready to have a go but Bobby speaks first. “Alright. There’ll be leftovers in the fridge.” Dean nods. “And Dean? If you’re not feeling well, or whatever, you come and tell me, I ain’t having you bottle it up like I know you do. I got work for you tomorrow anyway.” 

“Sure.” Dean leaves.

_ 54 Unread Messages. _

The number stares at him and the guilt inside him builds. Every single one is a message or missed call alert from Cas. He hasn’t given up. He flips through them quickly but doesn’t read any of them, only catching the odd word or two.

_... restraining order… _

Wait what? Dean scrolls back up. 

> **Castiel | 2:47 pm |** I’ve had a restraining order against Mick for the past eight months. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near me, or the studio. I contacted the police when you left. He shouldn’t have been here and I’m sorry he was, and that you were unsafe. Please tell me how you’re doing.
> 
> **Castiel | 4:52 pm |** I went to the Beanery. Charlie hasn’t seen or heard from you. I’m worried about you. 
> 
> **Castiel | 6:20 pm |** Aaron answered the door when I came, he said you weren’t there. Where are you? I hope you’re okay.
> 
> **Castiel | 7:03 pm |** Tell me you’re okay please
> 
> **Castiel | 11:27 pm |** I’ve called you several times, it just goes to voicemail so I think your phone is off.
> 
> **Castiel | 1:13 am |** I’m so sorry Dean

Dean chucks his phone across the room, then flinches as it hits the wall. He doesn’t even bother to wipe away the tears as he climbs into bed fully clothed. Sleep comes, fitfully, but even as he wakes the next morning he doesn’t feel rested. 

* * *

“Dean! Get your ass down here!” 

He’s been awake for hours, but at Bobby’s holler, he drags himself out of bed. Uncomfortable in yesterday’s jeans and flannel, he strips out of them and swaps them for a similar outfit, spraying himself with deodorant in lieu of a shower. No doubt Bobby will have a car he can work on.

Dean jogs down the stairs and finds Bobby at the bottom. 

“Good to see you’re still alive up there, now come on, the auto shop needs you.” 

Dean doesn’t say much as Bobby lays out the job he wants doing. It’s not exactly easy or quick, but having something to do with his hands is going to be a godsend. Bobby hangs about for a while, Dean can feel his watchful eye on him. 

“You don’t have to sit and watch me, you know, I’ve basically got a degree in this shit,” Dean says from underneath the car. 

“Maybe, but just checking on my favourite mechanic anyway.” 

“I’m your favourite? You going soft?” 

“Nah, I’m about to give you a crowbar and directions to a junker out back.”

Dean sighs, dragging a hand down his face and rolls out from under the car. He sits up on the creeper and turns his attention to Bobby who has a newspaper in his hands. He’s not looking at him but Dean can still feel the knowing look. Rolling on his heels makes the creeper move back and forth, a faint squeak emitting from one of the wheels. 

This feeling isn’t going away until he does something about it, he knows that much. He shouldn’t have run away, and at the least, he should have checked his phone earlier before it felt like too long had passed. 

“I fucked up,” Dean says. Bobby lowers his paper but doesn’t say anything. “I’m sure you don’t wanna know the details, but there’s this… guy…” 

“Boyfriend guy or?” 

“Um, yeah.” He’s pretty sure Bobby  _ knows _ , but he’s never outright told him and the conversation has never come up before. 

“Alright, do  _ I  _ need the crowbar?” he asks, brow raised. 

“No,” Dean says quickly. “Definitely not. I just… I ran away when I should have stayed. He probably hates me.” 

“Have you asked him?” 

Dean looks down at the floor, rolling the creeper a little. The squeak comes from the front right wheel, he can spray some WD-40 on that. Thinking about oiling a wheel isn’t getting this conversation over with. “No.”

He hears a long drawn out sigh from Bobby, followed by the ruffle of him putting the paper back on the worktop. “Come here, Dean.” 

Dean frowns, but stands up, walking gingerly over to where Bobby has parked himself. Bobby beckons him closer so Dean leans down a little, expecting some form of wisdom so close. What he gets instead is a cuff up the back of his head and the cold metal of a crowbar shoved into his hands.

“Take this, there’s a green Ford out back. Go talk sense into it, and yourself. Then I think you best be callin’ that boyfriend of yours.” 

Dean knows that Bobby is right. Letting his restlessness out on a car will clear his head more than fixing one up will. He gives Bobby a quick nod and marches out of the garage. 

He finds the green Ford in the middle of the scrapyard and bounces the crowbar in his hands. There's a tightness in his shoulders, coiled with the need to move, to be destructive, and Bobby has given him a way to do it without hurting himself. Hiding from the guilt under his covers and not talking to anyone is a sure way to not fix it. 

The crowbar knocks against the already rusty paintwork, a chunk flaking off. He takes a deep breath in before swinging the crowbar. It slams down on the hood, once, twice, three times. His palms ache with how hard he grips and he feels as his body tenses with the actions while simultaneously letting go. It's a feeling akin to subspace, but on the other end of the spectrum. It feels good and necessary and cathartic.

The Ford is beaten within an inch of its life, the windows are smashed, the hood is dented, the sides are chipped. Dean sinks down to the floor with his head in his hands. 

He might have fucked up, but he has to be the one to fix it and that's going to start with a call to Castiel. 

* * *

Dean's shirt is covered in sweat, so despite it putting off the inevitable, he showers, taking his time to rinse his body and shampoo his hair and let the pressure of the water beat down between his shoulder blades. 

Eventually, he has to turn it off, wrap a towel around his waist and head back upstairs to his room to change. He catches a glimpse of his phone peeking out from under the chest of drawers. He retrieves it, setting it on the nightstand and plugging it in to charge as he dresses. 

There's a couple of messages that come through but he ignores them. He delays further, trying to find a specific pair of socks he wants to wear but there's an end to it all when it's just him and his phone. 

Dean perches on the edge of his bed, takes his phone slowly in his hand and pulls up Cas' number. 

The photograph of Castiel he has lights up the screen as it rings… and then connects. 

"Dean? Hello?" Castiel's voice sounds worried already and Dean's heart sinks.

Dean pushes himself up the bed to lean against the headboard before answering. 

"Hey, Cas." 

"Dean." The way his name comes through the phone makes a thick lump form in his throat. 

"I'm sorry."

"I know, it's okay. I'm sorry too. Where are you?"

"I'm at my Uncle's house in Sioux Falls for the holidays. Cas, I shouldn't have gone. I didn't let you—" 

"It's okay. You're forgiven, just calling me is enough. I promise. How have you been?" 

"Feeling like shit."

"Oh, Dean."

"Bobby gave me a crowbar earlier. Took it out on some 1980 Ford mustang." Dean huffs a laugh. 

"Sounds thrilling," Cas tells him, and with anyone else it would have been a sarcastic remark, he knows from Cas it’s genuine. "Is my car safe if I drive up and see you?" 

"You don't have to…" Dean stops his train of thought. Having Cas here would mean the world to him. "Your car will be safe. I'm sure Bobby will take a look at it, I get my love for cars from someone." 

Dean knows that they can't avoid the conversation they need to have, but for now, lapsing into gentle topics is enough to calm Dean. Castiel asks for his address and Dean gives it freely, checking to make sure that Cas really wants to make the six-hour trip. 

"I'd do anything for you, and I want to see you," is his response.

"Okay." 

The line goes quiet for a moment and then words bubble up in Dean's throat, catching with second thoughts. 

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"I… um, have a safe drive.” 

“See you soon.”

* * *

Dean has six hours before Castiel gets here and he has no idea what to do to fill the time. He’s already showered so he doesn’t want to go back out to the garage, and he hasn’t been here long enough that anything needs tidying. Dean sighs. 

“Bobby?” he calls through the house and gets a grunt of a reply from the living room. He goes through and finds Bobby watching an old rerun on his ancient excuse for a TV. “What’s for dinner?” 

Bobby’s head turns at that and gives him a  _ look _ . “Boy, it’s like one in the afternoon, I ain’t thinking about that yet.” 

“So, I can make dinner?” 

“Knock yourself out,” he says and goes back to watching the TV. 

So Dean cooks and bakes with whatever he finds in Bobby’s cabinets. They’re mostly well stocked having been prepared for Dean and Sam to be joining him for the holidays. A chicken and bacon pasta bake with a cheese sauce he makes himself when he spots the mustard powder in the cupboard. They had macaroni and cheese last night, but this is going to be way better. 

There’s a tin of cherries in the pantry too, so with those, he starts making a pie from scratch. At some point, Bobby pokes his head in but swiftly wheels back out, not willing to interrupt. Dean’s glad for it, he’s in his own head just thinking about the next thing he needs and not Castiel’s impending arrival. 

The time goes by quickly and soon enough Sam and Eileen are back from their day trip, Bobby is complaining that dinner is too late and he’s just had a text from Castiel to say he should be there in about an hour. 

“What’s the occasion?” Sam asks, curious. He sits down at the large dining table and seems intent on bugging Dean. 

“Uh… um… someone is coming over.”

“A girlfriend?” Sam wonders, and Dean shakes his head lightly. “A boyfriend? I didn’t know you had one.” 

“It’s new-ish. Ugh, I’m not talking about this with you. But yeah, he’s on his way.” 

“Must be serious if you’re doing all this. Not like you ever cooked for anyone else.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” 

“So what’s his name?” 

“Castiel, Cas.” Dean smiles. 

“Aww, you’re so cute!” Sam teases and Dean frowns. 

“I will fight you,” Dean bites. 

“And Eileen will come to my rescue,” Sam tells him and looks over his shoulder to the doorway to where a freshly showered Eileen is standing. 

“I kick ass, you know,” Eileen says and Dean believes her. 

There’s a knock at the door almost an hour later but Dean doesn’t get there as fast as Bobby does so he hangs back a little. Bobby opens the door and there, with a harried look on his face, mussed-up hair and a wrinkled trenchcoat is Castiel. 

“You the boyfriend?” Bobby asks. Dean purses his lips to keep from laughing. 

“Yes?” Castiel answers.

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“I am, I’m Castiel Novak, sir.” Dean’s missed his voice. Even though they only spoke on the phone a few hours ago, it didn’t sound the same. 

“Alright then. Take your shoes off, and,” Bobby’s tone lowers and he leans up in his chair. “If Dean ever comes home in the state he was in again, I’ll be after your head. Understood?” 

Dean peers round the corner, and watches as Castiel blanches a little. “Understood.”

“Welcome. Dean’s been busy cooking,” Bobby says, tone back to normal. “Dean!” 

That’s his cue, and he rounds the corner. Castiel sags with what Dean assumes to be relief at the sight of him and has his arms out for an embrace. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” 

Castiel hugs him, wrapping his arms tight around Dean’s body and Dean already feels like he’s relaxing. Castiel’s hand runs up and down Dean’s back, soothing him and goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin making him shiver. 

“Dinner’s almost ready. I made pasta bake, coleslaw, fries and cherry pie and there’s also ice cream.” Dean breaks away reluctantly. “C’mon, you can meet everyone. Though you already met Bobby, I heard him give you a hard time.”

“He did. He seems to care about you a lot.” Castiel smiles at him and links their fingers together for a few moments.

Dean leads him to the kitchen where they’re assaulted by the smells of dinner. Sam, Eileen and Bobby are already sitting down at the table and look up expectantly at Dean. 

“This is Cas,” Dean says, feeling awkward. 

“Hello,” Castiel says. 

The timer in Dean’s pocket chimes and he pulls away from Castiel’s side and goes to the oven where he pulls out the bubbling pasta bake and sets it on the trivet in the middle of the table. 

“Sit down, Cas.” 

Dinner goes swimmingly, Castiel is unexpectedly chatty, talking to the others about his work and what he does without going into detail about what he takes photos of, and no one asks either. Dean talks about his exams  and Castiel seems curious too about how they went since Dean had taken them when he wasn't talking to Castiel. 

"I'm proud of you, no matter what the results are," Castiel says quietly as the others chat among themselves.

Dean flushes. "Thanks." 

Dean takes a huge slice of the cherry pie and Sam laughs at his eagerness. 

"Considering you didn't touch the apple pie you bought yesterday, I say you're definitely better now," Sam says with a smirk. 

"Whatever." Dean takes a huge bite and unashamedly chews with his mouth open facing his brother. 

"You're disgusting, we have guests." 

Dean grins.

"Boys," Bobby warns, shaking his head. 

A hand touches his thigh and Dean looks over to Castiel, who has a gentle smile on his face. Dean knew he wouldn't mind his childish antics, and by the smile he's giving him he reckons it's almost a relief that Dean feels relaxed. 

"Once you're done, I'll clear the table and wash up with Sam and Eileen. We'll let you kids go and talk or whatever." 

"We'll keep it quiet," Dean says, throwing a wink at Castiel. Sam and Bobby groan and Castiel rolls his eyes. 

"I don't want to hear it. Now, git." 

Dean shuffles from the table quickly before he's subjected to another cuff upside his head. Castiel follows when Dean beckons him and they go upstairs to Dean's room. Belatedly, Dean wonders what Castiel will think, it's the room he did most of his growing up in after his dad left them here for the weekend and never came back. It hasn't changed all that much since he was a young teenager. 

Dean closes the door quietly behind them. Castiel goes straight to the bed and sits on the edge, taking a look around. 

"This room is very you," he comments. "Come here, we need to talk and you lingering by the doorway looking to escape isn't going to help either of us." Dean moves until he is sitting next to Castiel and Castiel looks at him with something Dean can't describe. It's like he's seeing right through him and all of him at the same time. "Lie down." 

The bed isn't quite as big as a double, but Dean shuffles to one side and lies down on his back. Castiel joins him, before lacing the fingers of their hands between them together. 

Castiel talks, and Dean, for once in his life, just listens. "We were quick off the mark, we forgot to lock the door, or check it. I think that will be a joint mistake. The rest of it, I think is my own fault. First for not telling you and secondly for letting it happen as it did. I should have been there for you more than I was.

"For the most part, I was shocked too. Mick Davies was a previous client of mine and we had something of a similar relationship that you and I have, except that I never loved him, I was only interested in being his Dom. He knew that, I knew that. It was fine. Until it wasn't. I don't know what caused it, or if it had been like it all the time, but he came to my studio under the influence of some heavy drugs, demanding I help him and Dom him. I refused, it was in our contract, as it is in the one you signed too." 

Dean tightens his fingers into Castiel's. "I remember," he says, no more than a whisper. 

"He went away, but he would keep coming back, the old receptionist letting him past because he was charming. He interrupted shooting sessions with others, banging on my studio door. I lost some business to it and eventually took it to court and got a restraining order against him. He's not supposed to be near me or my studio. Becky said she was in the restroom when he came through and the studio door was unlocked.

"I knew I had to get him out, and he pulled my attention which should have solely been on you. I'm so sorry about that."

"I understand, I do. I overreacted in the moment. That fight or flight mode that kicks in? Well, that day it was flight. I didn't expect it to take me so far. As soon as I started ignoring your calls, it was hard to just pick up the phone, even though I knew I needed to. I dropped hard. Worse than before," he admits. His hand feels clammy, and his body tremors with anxiety as he talks, he'll be glad when this is over, when everything is out in the open and they can go back to being them. He has no intention of letting Castiel go this time. 

"Oh, Dean."

"I wasn't eating right, or thinking right, I barely said two words to Aaron. And then I threw myself into studying, day and night until Aaron got pissed off with me being awake. The exams were hard, more than I expected but I think that was me and not my knowledge. I was tired, hungry," Dean breathes for a moment. "Depressed." 

Castiel rolls over, pressing a kiss to Dean's temple and then swiping a thumb under his eye. He hadn't even realised he was crying. All the emotions are overwhelming, reliving the weeks between what happened and now. 

"And now?" Castiel asks softly. Dean can tell he's hesitant to press, but Dean lets him. 

"Better. Beating that car really shook something loose in me." 

"I can't believe you would beat up a Ford Mustang," Castiel says with exasperation. 

"I think if Bobby had told me to take it out on the Impala I wouldn't have thought twice." Dean laughs uncomfortably at the thought. "Can we just lie here for a bit?"

"Of course. Here, roll over away from me."

"You're making me be the little spoon?"

"Yes," he says and then loops an arm around Dean's waist and presses his palm to Dean's chest, pulling him in tight to Castiel's body. Dean concedes easily, realising this is exactly what he wants and needs. 

When they're comfortable, the only sound their breathing and some moving around from the kitchen below, Dean asks Cas if  _ he _ is okay. 

"Truthfully? It's been a rough few days. I was worried about you a lot and wasn't doing too hot myself. After the police dealt with Mick, I just went home and crashed. I kept texting you and then went out to find you." Dean hears Castiel sniff. 

"Sorry I put you through that." 

"We're here now." 

Castiel yawns. 

"I know it's not that late, but maybe we should both sleep," Castiel suggests. 

Dean feels butterfly light kisses on the back of his neck. “Hmm, keep that up and I’m going to have to ask for more,” he murmurs. “Besides we need to at least take off our jeans and shirts. I know from last night’s experience that sleeping in jeans is not so comfy.” 

Dragging himself from Castiel’s warm arms, Dean strips to his boxers and socks and by the time he turns back to the bed, Castiel has already discarded his pants and his shirt. For the first time, he's seeing Castiel naked. 

Dean whistles low. The bed covers are pooled around Castiel's waist, a pretty picture in itself. "You trying to tempt me?" Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head. "I'd never do that," he says, but then he rolls his shoulders and Dean's very first suspicions are confirmed. Castiel is solid. 

Dean suddenly feels nervous approaching the bed but Castiel beckons him and he goes easily, slipping under the covers until he's thigh to thigh with him. Castiel is warm and it's not long before Dean finds himself the little spoon. 

"Do you wanna..?" Dean starts when he feels Castiel's knee press into the back of his own. 

Castiel sighs and holds Dean tighter. "Just sleep, Dean."

"Please?" Dean reaches behind him and slides a hand down Castiel's hip. 

"It'll be a week if you carry on," Castiel warns playfully, and peppers kisses over Dean's shoulder blades before settling behind him. 

Dean's sure Castiel is asleep within moments then, and then soft rhythmic breathing against his neck is enough to soothe him into sleep. 

They're going to be okay. They can make this work between Dean's college and Castiel's photography. They've already had one hell of a time together in the last few months and Dean can't believe that's all it’s been. Dean hopes it lasts a long time, this feeling: Castiel's hand on his chest, back against him and warm and loved and looked after, it's something he's been looking for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented along, joined along the way or who waited until this was marked complete! I've been absolutely in awe of the reaction to this fic and I love each and every one of you for helping to keep me inspired and going with this fic (especially in the middle where I lagged and struggled a little with life things) ♥
> 
> Remember there will be two timestamps for this fic, they'll be written and posted after NaNoWriMo, so that I can work on my other project (a Cambion!Dean/Nephilim!Cas fic) but I will be back :D 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the ending ♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://envydean.tumblr.com) | [My Writing Tumblr](https://envydeanwrites.tumblr.com)


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